


The muted sins of the valley may haunt us yet

by SadBurrito



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Third Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Religious Fanaticism, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Swearing, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadBurrito/pseuds/SadBurrito
Summary: Sometimes when you run away from a mistake, there's something far worse ahead.Moving to a new state at the time seemed like a good idea to Max and it was beautiful. The profession that was left behind had a vacancy available to redeem his tarnished opinion of the law. What could possibly go wrong?Uploads will be either Thursdays or Fridays and once every two weeks.
Relationships: Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Male Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Staci Pratt/Jacob Seed
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64
Collections: Far Cry 5





	1. A new Deputy

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for some time and there are 10 chapters done and ready to go up!
> 
> Uploads will be either Thursdays or Fridays and once every two weeks.
> 
> There is on average between 2,500 - 3,500 words each upload :)
> 
> Tags will be updated with each new post!
> 
> The rating will go up when appropriate

Max had not been to a place as open as Hope county in a long time, there were fields as far as the eye could see in Holland valley and plenty of farms dotted around the landscape. Sure, some of the grass was dead in places and the soil plainly dry that it had cracked but farming wasn’t what drove Max to move multiple states. 

The peaceful open fields and clear rivers were just what was needed after all he had been through, there was a position in the local police force and Max had applied the month before. It was a massive relief to be free from the shit show of a job he left behind, just the possibility that he had been followed across the country made him anxious. If that were his fate and they found him, he would have a pretty view before he went. The wound was finally healed enough for him to fly and the second he got the all clear from the specialist he was gone, complications be damned. He would not stay in that state another day.

It was easy to settle into his new little house, which was just far enough out of Falls End that he had blissful solitude. The house was perfect if a little outdated but there was enough space for him to exist comfortably. The walls needed a new lick of paint and the shed out in the modest sized garden had seen better days, but it was refreshing.

It would give him something to focus on when he wasn't on duty. It had taken little over an hour to sort out his belongings, most of the furniture from the previous apartment had to be flown over separately and that would take a few weeks but Max was just happy to be free of the constant sound of traffic and the consistent feeling of being followed.

The front of the house was beautiful with trees that obscured the view of the road. It was peaceful in every way New York wasn’t, couldn’t be. The “apartment” he occupied in New York was tiny compared and Max knew he didn’t have nearly enough stuff to fill a modest house.

A few neighbours made the journey to meet him the day after moving in, a friendly woman who he was quick to befriend. Mary May, she had announced on his doorstep with a wide grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes, Nick and Kim Rye were close behind her and they brought apple pie. Max never could deny fresh homemade pie, especially not with the state of his fridge. It tasted delicious and at his insistence everyone ate with him, Mary May was quick to agree that it was divine, and Nick even had a second helping. Kim’s scoff when Nick caught her eye with apple dripping down his chin was more than worth having less leftovers. They felt like old friends already, Max could see himself being wonderfully comfortable in Holland valley.

“I’m surprised there was a house for sale so close to town.” Kim elbowed Nick and immediately tried to steer the conversation away from the previous homeowners, but Mary May was happy to elaborate when Max pulled a blank face clearly lacking information.

“A lot of these houses are passed through family especially the old houses like these.” She seemed to lose her train of thought as her eyes drifted to the high beams in the ceiling. “But the owners of this house all of a sudden vanished and the house went on sale within the week they went missing.”

“It's that damn cult Eden's Gate.” Kim’s sharp frown was ferocious enough to stop Nick's rant which she had clearly heard many times before.

“Eden's Gate is just a church.” She looked pointedly at Mary May, “They weren’t very sociable folk perhaps they just moved without telling anyone.” The conversation shifted onto much more ‘comfortable topics’ like what there was to do in the local area and Max didn’t get a chance to bring it up before everyone was leaving.

Mary May lingered longer than Nick and Kim, she was obviously tired and yet she still helped him wash the plates they had used and gave him the address for the police station along with the nearest grocery store.

“You be careful now Max, see you around.” She gave him a tight hug on the way out, the type of hug that was warming hours after. Her brows were furrowed but she waved as her truck swung onto the road back to Falls End, brown hair blowing out behind her.

In another life Max could see himself falling for someone like her, that brought a chuckle then scowl to his face. Oh, how his mother would press him to pursue Mary May if she could see him now. To his relief none of his new neighbour’s asked about where he came from. Not that he would have minded explaining in the most minimal detail but a fresh start with a clean slate would be easier and Max wanted to forget.

Earl Whitehorse was a relaxed sheriff compared to the many Max had the displeasure to work under. He was plump but had kind eyes and such soft undertones to his voice that it could have put his parents to shame, the accent was quick to relax the dread at having to talk to another sheriff so quickly after leaving. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t Roberts and that he did sign up for the job, so of course he would have to be introduced to the sheriff. Earl’s hat was clearly trying to cover up some excessive balding, but it suited him well enough. 

“As you can see Max.” The sheriff gestured to the stuffy office where a couple of fans rattled to blow hot air and few tired faces sifted through a small pile of paperwork. “there isn’t a lot of manpower.” He read through Max’s hefty Cv with a smile, it was a massive understatement. There was space for a lot of bigger desks and yet there were only four spread throughout the room.

“Should fit in just fine as long as you don’t get bored.” The sheriff patted his shoulder and pushed him lightly towards one of the desks. “This isn’t the city after all.” Max tensed for a few moments, perhaps they had sent news from New York and Max was going to find himself at the end of a shotgun the second he finished his shift. The sheriff just smiled and read through a few files whilst waiting for Max to get himself over to meet the deputies.

‘Staci Pratt’ it read on a little plaque next to a man who was very slowly reading over a document as if to appear busy. He had the biggest stack of papers out of all the desks and a cheeky grin with a firm handshake. 

“You’ll be under Pratt for today.” With a nod the sheriff was quick to get back into his office which seemed to be the only room with a functioning air con. Pratt was handsome with black slicked back hair and a lean figure; he was a few inches shorter than Max and he could only guess how popular Pratt was with the laddies of Hope county.

“Call me Staci, Rookie.” Pratt was quick to pull him out of the station and into the department car which had seen better days. There were coffee cups in abundance but with so many shifts and as little staff available it was hardly surprising, and Max knew that once he got into the swing of the shifts, he would add his own. It was somehow cooler outside than in the station, not by much but enough that Max didn’t feel like he was going to sweat off a layer of skin for simply existing.

Staci reminded Max of how his younger self behaved when he was a fresh-faced deputy in New York. Unlike Pratt however he was quick to put the lazy attitude behind him with how busy it had been. Staci had clearly never moved out of his hometown and couldn’t understand why the new rookie was so eager, but he would be a good partner. He knew the area and people like the back of his hands, having someone to joke around with would make the long shifts fly. 

Unlike Hudson who apparently had a stick up her ass, but Staci had a fond smile when he spoke of how she was too serious for her own good. She sounded like Emily back in New York and Max almost couldn’t hide the grimace as her kind smile flashed behind his eyelids and a pang of guilt made bile rise in his throat.

There was a bar down the road from the sheriff’s department called The Spread Eagle, Pratt laughed at Max’s low whistle as the sign came into view. It was clear where the bar had earned that title with a scantily clad woman with wings flashing in neon, as they entered the bar Mary May perked up from the newspaper she was reading. It wasn’t busy, well not as busy as Max had expected even with how early in the afternoon it was. There were a few people playing darts and a group of friends laughing and joking at the bar.

“It’s a bit early for you isn't it Pratt?” The eye roll along with the boisterous laughter from the patrons were telling and Max smirked when Staci shrugged, his gaze pinned on the bartender.

“Is that the new rookie?” One of the darts players was eyeing him curiously as they paid for another pint of ale which sloshed mostly over the edge of the glass with the haste to get back to the game.

“Sure is,” Mary May laughed as Max rubbed the back of his neck clearly uncomfortable being scrutinised on the first day on duty but they seemed friendly enough, hell most people would seem friendly compared to the people he left behind.

“You called this morning with a complaint about Eden's Gate.” Her face dropped instantly, and she regarded Staci then Max with a frustrated look.

“They’ve been preaching around the bar again.” Her anger was echoed throughout the room with murmurs from the patrons. “Saying drinking is a sin that we’re all sinners, when is someone going to do something about them?” 

Staci squared his shoulders with a sigh. “They didn’t break the law Mary, have you barred anyone?” At the shake of her head Pratt scoffed, there was a definite near eye roll.

“You give me a call if they do something, we can actually charge them with and if they refuse to leave next time.” Pratt didn’t wait for a reply before walking out into the humid afternoon air. 

Max was quick to follow with a light wave to Mary May who was polite enough to smile tightly as he sped out of the bar. There was obviously something more going on with this Eden's Gate if it made someone like Staci so cagey, Max thought he was a good judge of character and Mary May didn’t seem like someone who would just call in for the sake of it.

Pratt was leaning against the hood of the car with a lit cigarette, he eyed Max anxiously for the entirety of the smoke. Neither spoke apart from Pratt offering him a puff but Max wouldn’t be tempted by the comforting smell of tobacco just yet. It wasn't until they were in the safety of the confined vehicle that Max took a deep breath and asked what was playing on his mind, even as Pratt purposefully kept his eyes trained forward on the road. With the smell of Pratt’s cigarette lingering in the background it almost made Max want to start smoking all over again.

“So, Eden's Gate?” Time seemed to drag as Max waited for a response.

“It’s a church, sure they’re a little eccentric but we’ve had no Legal trouble with them yet.” Sweat was starting to bead on Pratt's forehead. “Not any we can do them with anyway.” 

“You know what little town folk are like.” At Max’s small shrug Pratt sighed, “They are an extremely superstitious people.” Pratt was saved from the incoming cascade of questions by the sight of the sheriff's department as they pulled up alongside a tired looking woman in the deputy uniform, clearly it was Hudson who had to come in early to finish some paperwork off.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, Max spent it filling in the various documentation with the lull of Hudson and Staci trying to find out where he was from every so often. He didn’t give them much to go on. When Hudson asked why someone so young with such good recommendations decided to move to the middle of nowhere, Max gave the vaguest reason possible. That he wanted some peace after working in such a busy city, she clearly didn’t believe him, but he wasn't lying; it was a fraction of the reason. The utter shock on Hudson’s face when he revealed his age was perfect even if 28 wasn’t that old, she was clearly expecting him to be much younger.

By the time he made the drive home it was dark, and Max couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched when he walked up the gravel path to the patio. It disappeared the second he closed the front door, with a sigh of relief Max leant on the doorframe and took a deep breath. The smell of old wood calmed the irritable prickle under his skin to such a degree that he almost didn’t notice the flyer that was sticking out from under his feet, clearly having been shoved under the door.

It had a fancy black cross centred with Eden's Gate written in a bold font, there were dates for upcoming sermons and the location of the church. It was the local way of welcoming him into the neighbourhood and Max thought it was a good time as any to check them out. Max wasn’t one for religion, but he knew the impact it had on communities and he respected people’s choice to believe in whatever deities they needed to feel comfortable. There wasn’t much to do out in Hope country, why not join a new community?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated :D 
> 
> Please give me serotonin!
> 
> My tumblr is @redangrypears if you want to say Hi or Shout at me.


	2. The sermon

It was just the next morning when Max found himself putting on a button up and a pair of barely worn jeans, he was ‘lucky’ to be working the night shift with Hudson so he could attend the next available sermon. He would have to get the hang of the night shifts sooner or later and he was sure Hudson was anxious for a shift switch up, if her tired features were anything to go by. Getting up early when he didn’t have to work almost seemed like a wasted morning, yet it was such a good opportunity.

The heat wasn’t insufferable in the early hours and Max quite enjoyed the quiet drive through the back lanes of Holland Valley. It truly was picturesque, with the wheat blowing in the gentle breeze and the low sway of the few trees that dotted the landscape. He envied the relaxed hum of the wildlife and livestock, how they could just drift in tranquillity until their purpose came to an end.

Without even realising it, Max was already facing the dirt road that led up to Eden's Gate. it was fenced off as far as the eyes could see with a huge sign that was rudely obvious against the green backdrop of swaying willows. His old Audi A2 that was perfect for city driving would only just about handle the uneven road. 

There wasn’t a lot of activity when Max came around the corner to a small parking area, it was early but most churchgoers he’d known in the past were always up bright and early for Sunday sermons and yet his car was one of the only ones parked up.

The biggest obvious difference to the standard Christian churches Max had seen on the drive over was the size. If the church was big enough there might be a few buildings but the sheer size of Eden's Gate was incomparable, there were eight buildings dotting around a big plot of land and in the centre was a modest white church that had a turquoise roof.

It was clearly a much bigger operation than expected and Max couldn’t begin to wonder why a church would need so many buildings, but he had made the effort to get up early so there wasn’t any turning back now. Not when he was already walking down to the doors to the church.

The silence inside was deafening as he pushed the huge double doors apart to go inside, the creak of them closing gently behind him earned a handful of stares from the pews but the faces were kind and quick to turn back to the front. His mother would be proud, if there was one thing she did right it was to teach him how to behave in a church. 

The ceiling was high as expected, supported with dark wooden beams that stretched the expanse of the large room. There were around ten pews which were nearly all full, Max managed to nab a seat in the back and luckily, he was tall enough that he could see the front quite well. The room was not well lit with only a few candles at the front and the morning sun shining through the small number of windows. There didn't need to be many not with how big they were, surprisingly there wasn’t any depictions of Jesus or God, or anything remotely Christian in sight.

Max was just starting to feel like the flyer neglected to mention something particularly important when a man came from the back room onto the little stage. He shuffled some papers around before laying them on the stand and then his face lifted to scan the room. He was charismatic for sure, bright blue eyes with a lightly tamed beard and hair that was in a bun keeping the long brown wisps out of his eyes. He wore a white cotton shirt tucked into some jeans with a rosary looped around his wrist down to his palm. Max could just about see the peak of a tattoo under one sleeve, in all the sermons Max had attended none of the preachers had tattoos. 

It was becoming obvious that Eden's Gate wasn't some standard Christian church, Pratt did say they were eccentric, but Max didn’t expect it to this degree. The preacher was at the front of the pews, his arms were raised in prayer and Max was so busy trying to read the man in front of him that he didn’t even hear when he started talking.

“Bless the name of those who have dealt you blows, be grateful to those who have caused you harm.” That wasn’t what Max was expecting to hear at all, his eyes were trained on the preacher and as he stopped to take a breath, he caught Max’s gaze. “For it is these sufferings that has led you to me.” It felt like he was looking right into Max’s soul, like the words were just for him. 

“For I am your father and you are my child.” Max had never read that in the bible, and he had read it extensively as a child, until he could recite paragraphs without a thought. He drew Max in with softly spoken words that held passion in all the right places. Max couldn’t help but think how much more interested he might have been as an adolescent if the priest at his local church had been as captivating. 

“Man's pride has made him so forgetful and ungrateful, that God intends to start over.” Max had to stifle a smirk, surely, he couldn’t believe the words he spoke confidently into the crowded church.

“For we have learned nothing. We left our filth on everything, soiled it all.” His eyes were almost burning with the intensity of his gaze around the room. People were on the edge of their seats, faces slack with such a look of strong appreciation that it made Max uncomfortable. 

“How can we still doubt that his judgement of the people all over America! The world!, the sinners that defile his ground with rubbish and pollution.” He was almost shouting but it didn’t hurt Max’s ears it just made him listen that little bit harder. There had to be a second meaning to his words, there was no way he wasn’t bullshiting. 

“Won't result in the cleansing of this world, we must prepare, show God we are still loyal before it comes crashing around us.” Maybe it was an over the top way of asking people to stop drinking? The drawl to his voice was more obvious the louder his voice became, a Georgian accent which was close but didn’t quite match Max’s.

“We must cast aside our technology and help save the tarnished pristine of nature before it is too late.” Perhaps an extravagant way of asking to pick up litter? His voice filled every corner of the church, there was nothing Max could do but stare on in fascination.

“But you must be patient for now my children, for the first seal of the prophecy has yet to be opened but it will.” A prophecy? “And when it does, we will be ready.” It was such a morbid statement yet the preacher spoke in such a delicate tone the words seemed to caress Max as they travelled the expanse of the room like water filling a glass, it lessened the impact from the finality of the statement to the point that it barely sounded like a threat at all. He had spoken with such conviction that there was no way the preacher didn’t fully believe what he was saying. 

Max didn’t need to stay long after that, after such a strong opening the preacher retreated into the back room once more and two televisions that Max didn’t even notice switched on with lyrics flashing onto the screen. Music flowed from speakers in the four corners of the room and it was a peaceful backdrop to the softly sung hymns that Max had never heard before. He slipped out of the double doors into the light breeze that always seemed to envelop the dry valley. 

Perhaps that sermon was an exception from the Church's norm? It seemed like a twisted form of Christian. Perhaps once the preacher was a true man of God and somewhere along the way he twisted the religion to meet his own ends. He scowled and tried to shake the thought away, it was his mother speaking. Max could imagine her voice perfectly and that was the problem with his catholic upbringing. Only one God, the only true God. if people were Christian why couldn’t others be Buddhist? It had never made any sense to him.

It was a train of memories and thoughts that Max wouldn’t let himself fall into, many a sleepless night he had contemplated his faith and without the watchful gaze of his parents there was no reason to torture himself. Another vehicle was besides his Audi A2, the red truck dwarfed it in comparison and Max could not help but envy the shine of the paintwork. It was clearly well looked after; he was so absorbed in how the Eden’s Gate’s cross seemed etched onto the hood that he was startled when the sound of the door being slammed reached his ears.

A man in an army jacket walked towards him, bright blue eyes greeted him once again and with a slight nod the man continued down the path into the church itself. He had striking red hair and to Max’s curiosity a knife strapped to his left thigh. Men of God were supposed to abstain from violence, but Eden's Gate had already proven to be strange or just perhaps it was simply used for hunting. It took a moment to recall the types of trucks they used just outside of Atlanta to go hunting, he was sure they were remarkably similar just like the shade of blue that awoke an old ache in his chest. 

Max couldn’t help but think the worst of people especially after New York, he spent the rest of the day working out what needed to be fixed around the house and shed. It turned out that not too much needed doing if you didn’t count the wallpaper that was falling off in places and the seams of the windows which were somehow mouldy even in the heat or the door of the shed that didn’t quite sit right in the frame. 

It could wait, what Max needed to do was fix the lock on the back door or more accurately replace the back door completely. There was a crack that ran from the lock which looked like it had been broken with great force, to the centre of the door which was already weakened by a single pane window. 

He never noticed it before but in his excitement to get settled it was easy to miss things of that nature and he figured it had been broken before he moved in even if he couldn't be sure. As soon as it was fixed, he could move onto the task of sanding the shed frame, so it didn’t bounce back every time he tried to secure his tools. The lack of security filled him with such strong foreboding that it was lucky he would be exhausted from the upcoming nightshift or he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all.

He didn’t get a chance to do any of it of course, in the blink of an eye Max was making his way back to the station to meet up with Hudson to start the long-dreaded night shift. Nancy was there to meet him this time as well, she was the dispatcher of the department. Max couldn’t help but feel like he had seen her somewhere before, but she behaved as if they had never met, he hadn’t explored enough of the valley to meet lots of people. 

Hudson was keen to get on the road, no doubt excited by the potential of someone other than her doing the night shifts. Pratt was right in a sense Hudson was extremely serious, well more serious than Pratt could ever be, and It was a surprise to Max that they got on so well with such different personalities. 

She filled the easy silence with talk about the regular crime committers the county suffered but with no mention of Eden’s Gate, it had to be on purpose. Max waited for the lull in conversation as they drove around Whitetail mountains, he felt nervous and looked out of the window to gain face before mentioning what was on his mind.

“So, I attended one of Eden’s Gate’s sermons.” Hudson didn’t say anything for a solid 10 seconds and Max had to say something before he jumped out of the car. “Is that preacher charismatic or what.” Hudson’s face went red and she took a deep breath before speaking.

“You did what?” Max flinched as Hudson’s voice echoed around the car, the way she gripped the steering wheel made Max question if he would live until the end of his shift.

“I was curious.” Max did not get the big deal; the whole county was highly religious. If it was because Eden’s Gate didn’t appear catholic Max was going to scream. “They sent a flyer through the door and I couldn’t help myself.”

That seemed to make Hudson relax and she unpeeled her fingers from the tight grip of the steering wheel. “I don’t know what you’ve heard but they are trouble.” Max was about to cut her off but at the sharp look he quickly closed his mouth. “The preacher you mention is called Joseph they call him The Father.” Totally not a cult. No, the church he attended as a child had a similar situation.

“That's a pretty normal title,” Hudson scoffed with a small shake of the head. “No, seriously the church preacher where I grew up was called Oculus qui universa conspicit.” Hudson's face was blank, and Max grinned before translating.

“It means the eye which watches universes.” Hudson’s boisterous laugh startled Max who almost spilled his coffee all over the chair and legs, his light frown just as she composed herself made her burst out laughing all over again. There were tears dripping onto her uniform by the time she collected herself.

“That sounds like a cult to me dude.” Did it? Max couldn't tell if it was because that's what he grew up with but it didn't feel like a cult, he was forced to attend as a child by his mother. She had been overtaken with joy the first time Max was dragged along with her at the mere age of seven, she became a woman of God that day and truthfully, he didn’t remember much. Perhaps it was for the best?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know Latin so if there is a mistake, I do apologize!
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated :D
> 
> Please give me serotonin!


	3. Joyous drunk men and gifted coffee

There was a call towards the end of the shift and Hudson groaned as the radio’s static filled the calm silence. Someone was burning shit at 4am in the Henbane river, it wasn't just a river but an area that happened to have a big river throughout. Max was beginning to suspect that everyone in Hope County was crazy, perhaps it was the water. Sharky was, but Hudson was quick to put out the fire and secure his makeshift flamethrower whilst Max observed to the best degree in his tired state. 

No amount of coffee helped when doing nights, he had learned it extremely quickly. There was something that would help but Max had sworn that he was done with it, especially at his current state of health as fragile as it was. Not that he would even know where to get it around these parts, it was easy in the back-alley streets of New York. He tried to forget the last remains of the white powder that was still safely wrapped in the bottom of his suitcase.

They stayed and conversed with Sharky whilst waiting for another call and for the fire to completely die, the radio being safely strapped to Hudson’s hip. Sharky was clearly drunk and it was no surprise that he thought the middle of the night was a good idea to have an improv bonfire. There was thick forestry far too close to where the bonfire was now but small embers, not to mention all the caravans that were mere feet away. Max shuddered at the thought. How easy would it have been for a forest fire to break out, it hadn't rained the entire time Max was in Hope county and clearly a time before that. 

“So, where you from dep?” It wasn't Hudson this time. Sharky had asked, Hudson looked at him with thinly concealed curiosity and an innocent smile, the gears in her head visibly turning.

“I was born in Georgia.” Neither looked surprised as his accent was a sure giveaway. “Then I moved to New York and now I'm here.” 

“Just like that poof and you're here.” Sharky was clearly too drunk to be having the conversation and yet he persisted. “Like how they apparate in Harry Potter.” He giggled at Hudson's deadpan look before continuing.

“Why did you leave Atlanta?” Not quite the question Max was dreading.

“Sometimes heartbreak is enough of a reason.” Sharky nodded sympathetically and patted Max’s head gently, it would have been comforting if he couldn’t feel Hudson’s stare burning into the side of his face.

“Why did you leave New York?” Hudson was far too intelligent for her own good, Max had dodged that question a handful of times already and it was getting tiring. At every dodge he appeared more suspicious, asking him when he was tired was cheating.

“Look I can’t tell you the whole reason.” Max frowned as Hudson rolled her eyes. “I don’t want your life in my hands.” That she wasn’t expecting, and her face pinched with interest.

“It was bad in New York there were too many corrupt-” He had already said enough- “I can’t ever go back.” Max had broken out in a sweat; Hudson better not ask for details because he was done. Sharky was a good listener even as he swayed like he was going to fall over. Hudson was in her own world to Max’s relief, no doubt trying to decode the conversation.

“Sit down it looks like you're going to topple over any second.” Sharky flashed him a grin and went to plonk into Max’s lap. “Next to me Sharky.” Max tried to sound as relaxed as possible, but it was impossible to completely hide the irritation, drunk people tended to be erratic and Max was too tired for any of it. It took less than a second for Sharky to rest on Max’s shoulder and he was out like a light before Max had a chance to glance down in surprise. 

“A little help Hudson?” She laughed and the sight of Max being a makeshift pillow for a drunk hillbilly seemed to snap her out of her train of thoughts. They worked in silence and it took longer than expected to move a passed out Sharky into the closest caravan. He was heavy and Max felt the effort strain his shoulder muscles, it pulled at his recently stitched wound. He waited almost long enough. A little exercise should have been fine, it would have to be. 

In New York they would have left the drunkards to sleep where they fell or at the very least put them in a cell overnight, but the wildlife was vastly different in Hope County. They couldn’t have Sharky being eaten by a bear or wolf, the thought alone was enough to cause a grimace or was that because of the persistent throbbing and tugging in his shoulder blades? 

“You alright Rookie?” Hudson’s concern was touching but Max wouldn’t have her fussing over him if she saw the state of his back. They would put him on light duty or worse forced leave and Max needed to be busy. The money wasn’t a problem as it was surprising how much people would pay for a little information. At the time it had made him happy, having so much money that he didn’t know what to do with it but now it just made him feel sick. If only he had kept his mouth shut but Max was ever an opportunist, greedy as the next man and someone had to suffer the consequences. Of course, it couldn’t have been Max.

He would have to talk to the local doctor about his injuries and hope they kept their mouths shut, he couldn’t tend to something he couldn’t see or reach. If it had been anywhere else, it wouldn't have been a problem with the medical training Max had but of course it had to be in one of the only unreachable places. He was lucky they hadn’t come after him in the hospital. Maybe they thought the complications would kill him off, stubbornly they didn’t. 

Hudson didn’t probe him further and he figured she believed him; most people wouldn’t lie about an injury as serious as his. There was a tense quietness on the way back to the station and Max knew Hudson was itching to ask him more questions, but she kept them to herself for the moment. Max didn’t know if he preferred her to get all the questions out of her system at once or being in constant minor stress wondering if she was going to ask at any time.

The station was almost calm with Hudson watching him fill out the paperwork for Sharky, Max could write the reports with his eyes closed as boring as they were, but he was still on probation for the first month. It was 9 by the time they both trudged out of the old rickety door of the station, Hudson still had some paperwork to catch up on and Max had stayed to stop her getting too bored. 

Max knew he shouldn’t have driven in such a tired state but in the blink of an eye he was pulling up the driveway to his home. Hudson’s thankful smile when they parted ways was worth the hour less of sleep, he wasn't in until the day after anyway. His bed, mattress called to him. The frame still hadn’t arrived from New York, but Max was so tired it wouldn’t matter. He only just remembered to check the gauze before falling into a blissful dreamless slumber, the stitches underneath had bled a little and even though it obviously wasn't too bad with how it didn’t bleed through to his uniform; Max needed visual confirmation. 

It was disorientating when he woke up only to realise it was the middle of the day, the curtains were thick enough to block the majority of the sun, but it still left him fuzzy until he had a coffee. His shoulder was stiff, and it was an irritation that he had to be careful, Max figured the easiest way to find a locksmith would be on the internet. Hopefully, the majority of Hope County used it. 

The locksmith was booked for a few days away, apparently there had been several houses broken into recently. It had taken an hour of searching the internet before Max had given up and gone down to the Spread Eagle to ask Mary May. She was pleased to see him and was quick to give him the right contacts. 

Eden’s Gate clearly hadn’t been down to the bar since the last time, Mary May was much more relaxed and happier than the last hasty meeting between them. The bar was a bit livelier to Max’s relief with a lot more drunkards, it would have been a tad awkward to be the only person drinking. He didn’t have much just a single brandy before he waved goodbye and headed home, he had a shed door to sand.

There was another flyer pushed under his door waiting for him, why Eden’s Gate couldn’t use the mailbox was beyond him. It was an invite to a bonfire which would have some free BBQ, just the free food alone was tempting but Max didn’t know if he could stand to hear more from ‘The Father’. Thankfully, the event wasn’t for a few days so it would give him ample time to decide. 

Sanding was therapeutic and Max found himself for the first time in weeks not worrying about anything. He made sure to keep the pressure off his left side as much as possible, he really needed to sign up with the Local hospital or clinic, but it would have to be on his next day off. Nick was waiting at his front door when he finally went inside, the flyer was hastily hidden under some random letters before he opened the door with a grin. 

“Hey Nick! Hope you haven't been waiting long.” Nick shook his head lightly with a small smile. “Come inside I was just out in the back.” They had a few beers, well Nick had a few to many. Max had work in the morning, and he offered to drive Nick back when he went. Apparently, Nick had just learned that Kim was pregnant and needed to celebrate with a friend, Kim had clearly had enough of how emotional Nick was and sent him out for a few hours.

He was drunk before he came over and Max had to withhold the need to chastise him for driving over the limit. It was normal in these parts; a lot of folks drank far too regularly but the sheriff was content to live and let live if people were on their best behaviour. For the majority it worked and the few people that really went out of line were dealt with by the stern face of Hudson and occasionally Pratt. 

It was jarring compared to how the sheriff's department in New York had been, with strict rules and procedures for every form of crime that the average criminal committed. Well criminals that didn’t have friends in the right places, it was exhausting. Nick was adamant that it would be a boy and for his sake Max hoped it would be, passing on the family business clearly meant a lot to him. Max didn’t get why a girl wouldn’t run the family name just as well, but they were deep in Hope County which was full of doomsday preppers. Rye and Sons aviation, it was called. Nothing a few signs changed couldn’t fix, Nick just shrugged at the suggestion.

There were lots of different landmarks in Holland Valley and Nick was quick to point out random bits of scenery on the drive back, how he could even see with the amount he had to drink not to mention how dark it was out Max didn’t know. He had stayed far too long but the company was welcomed and needed. Once Nick was safely through the door Max was quick to go home. It was 10pm and he had to be at the station for 8am, the drive back was only 15 minutes and Max was asleep the second his head touched the pillow.

Max didn’t get woken up by his alarm instead his phone was blaring next to his head and as he answered, startled and still gripped by the tendrils of sleep the time read 6am. 

“Hey, I know you aren’t in for another 2 hours, but we’ve had a call from up the Henbane.” It took Max a few seconds to realise it was Staci on the other end. “It might take a few hours to sort so I’m here to pick you up.” That broke the haze of sleep and sure enough, Staci was parked in the department car waiting outside for Max with a coffee in hand. He waved with a laugh at the look of utter despair Max couldn’t possibly hide with his eyes still half shut and hair in disarray.

It took him 5 minutes before he was happily letting the aroma of the gifted coffee wash over him, breakfast would have to wait. Staci was somehow wide awake, and it was curious, men like him didn’t do mornings or so he had Max believe until now.

“So, what's the situation?” Staci was driving much quicker than usual with his fingers clasped tightly around the steering wheel, it must have been serious.

“Let’s just say you’re going to need more than a coffee to stand the arsehole we're going to be dealing with, man I hate lawyers,” Staci giggled, and for the second time Max wondered if everyone in Hope County were nuts, gigging at the prospect of someone difficult wasn’t what Max expected of Staci at all.

“If we’re lucky John Seed won't even be there, and it will just be a few of the project members.” He was sullen with a frown and a pout? It was difficult for Max to adjust to such strange behaviour so early.

“I didn’t know there was another Seed.” Staci’s eyebrows rose into his hairline and he grinned with a glance at Max, searching his face to see if he was joking.

“You're kidding.” At Max light shrug Staci shook his head “there's 3 of them technically 4.”

“FOUR.” One potentially crazy preacher was just about manageable but four, why didn’t anyone tell him? Staci ignored his sudden outburst and tapped his fingers impatiently, the person in front clearly had nowhere pressing to go.

“Eden’s Gate is trying to build a massive structure and some folk don’t think they have a permit.” A simple permit check wouldn’t take too long so this John Seed must have been a real pain to require so many hours, all they needed were the right papers. How could someone draw that kind of procedure out?

The rest of the drive was tense and Max wished he had brought a protein bar after all, they could see the start of the metal frame from over a mile away, it was situated on top of a hill overlooking the entire of Hope County. Max hoped they had a damn good architect because if they messed up it would be a real eyesore with no way of avoiding seeing whatever was planned. 

“We’re nearly there.” Staci took a few moments before he sighed and continued. “let me do the talking especially if John graces us with his presence.” Staci was really making Max uncomfortable, his wing it attitude gone completely just at the mere suggestion that John would be there. 

The car finally came to a stop at a clearing where there was a flurry of activity with lots of people moving building materials around. Staci took a deep breath and took a second to light up a cigarette before motioning for them to get on with it. Max couldn’t help but be reminded of the cheesy westerns he used to watch as a child, when his mother was out working. It lightened a layer of dread that had washed over him.

“Let’s go Rookie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated :D
> 
> Please give me serotonin!


	4. Avoidance of a lawyer

People were moving materials up a sizable hill, there were lots of metal being shifted and Max couldn’t help but be curious as to what the finished result would be. They were mostly ignored, and Max was grateful because it let him observe uninhibited. At the very top of the Hill there was a patch of grass that had been cleared, cement was being placed in a wide area with some already appearing to be set. When they got close to the base of where people were placing and sorting materials a couple of the workers started whispering and casting them distrustful glances, what were they building? 

A woman was quick to notice and head towards them, Max couldn’t help but be instantly uncomfortable. She was failing to hide a small frown. It didn’t sit right on her features and Max could tell she didn’t do it often. People moved out of the way instantly as she glided over to where they were standing, Max almost coughed as an sickly sweet aroma floated in the air, work was still going strong around them and Max couldn't help but be impressed as people with jumpers that had the Eden’s Gate logo worked relentlessly almost inhuman with the sheer determination and strength. 

It was deeply unsettling; he couldn’t look away from one individual who had managed to carry 4 bags of cement in one go without so much as breaking a sweat. It was Pratt’s tiny nudge into his side that had his eyes snapping back to the woman who was now in front of them.

She was beautiful, with long brown hair. Dull green eyes that should have been bright against her fair skin, without a trained eye you wouldn’t know she was high, but Max knew the signs. He felt an instant sorrow at the faraway look in her gaze even as she looked at him dead on, her pupils were huge leaving almost no green left. It reminded him of a person he couldn’t let himself think about.

“Can I help you gentleman?” Her voice was soft, so quiet that Max felt himself leaning closer to hear her properly. 

“Is John h-here we need to see some documentation?” Staci was clearly perplexed, and Max had never heard him stutter.

“He told me someone might come asking.” It was obviously irregular or uncommon for John not to be there if Staci’s reaction was to go on, his eyebrows had shot up his forehead and he sighed at the light stumble to the sentence with a light flush on his face. “which ones do you need.” The woman was being very accommodating, almost too friendly with a big smile to Max. 

“OK Faith we need to see evidence that you have a permit.” Staci fidgeted under Faith's gaze and put his arms behind his back to hide twitching fingers. Max put a palm on Staci's shoulder and took the lead that Pratt desperately wanted.

“Someone can bring it down to the station if you don’t have it right now.” Her face lit up and she moved minutely forward to grasp Max’s arm before thinking better of it. “But I must implore that it be within the week.” She was quick to agree and that was that. Her eyes were trained on his tattoo which was only just visible behind his uniform. It rested along his right collar, a small simple black and white design of a Boeing stearman.

Staci didn’t say a word until they got into the car and Max was worried, he had somehow fucked up. They were well on the way to the next stop when Staci burst out laughing, all the tension gone in that instant and Max knew it was fine. 

“Damn you handled that well.” Staci sounded genuinely surprised and Max would have been offended but he was new to the department, they didn’t know him. 

“You have a history with her?” Max knew he was stepping on what could potentially make Staci uncomfortable, but he had to know.

“Kind of,” he sighed and raked a hand through his hair pushing it out of his eyes. “It’s the drugs; just being around her gives me a headache.” 

“She was high as a kite.” Maybe higher than a kite with the string being an endless cord with how high she was soaring.

“Finally, someone agrees with me.” With a puff of breath Staci’s head fell back into the headrest. “John is very firm on the legal stuff; the fact that he would let Faith deal with it is weird.”

“Another Seed?” Max knew the answer, Faith demanded far too much respect from the people around her not to be a Seed.

“She's the adopted sister.” Just as the car pulled down the radio lit up with static.

“This is Eli.” The signal kept dropping out, but Pratt recognized the rough tone instantly. “Need to show you something up-” Max didn’t know why someone would have the right channel to reach Pratt.

“We can radio once we're up there and find out where he wants us.” 

“There?”

“Whitetail mountains but first, you hungry?” Max was starving and fortunately Pratt stopped on the way through Falls End to pick up a few sandwiches from the little grocer’s shop. They were delicious with coleslaw and pork; it was probably because he hadn’t eaten since the day before.

Pratt was keen to talk about Eli who was apparently leading a Doomsday prepper group the Whitetails militia, it didn’t surprise Max in the slightest. There were lots of doomsday preppers in Georgia, some of the families Max had grown up around were preppers. The majority of the people that went to his local church were.

They didn’t need to find out where Eli was as the second, they drove into the Whitetails the radio came to life with a location Max didn’t recognise. Whitetail Mountains was full of thick forestry and wooden cabins, Max hoped they got snow because it would be a sight to behold.

They ended up pulling up next to a little lodge that was completely made from wood with big windows, well spaces where they would be. Max was angry, how could someone damage such a nice building? It had been ransacked with broken windows and a missing front door but apparently that wasn't the main reason they had been called out. 

A middle-aged man with an untamed beard came out to meet them, he shook Max’s hand with a twinge of a smile. Then he led them both into the lodge. If Max thought the outside was bad, the inside was much worse. Furniture was broken and it was clear with the still smoky tinge to the air that there had been a small fire, there were scraps of burnt paper everywhere.

Down the steps they went into a small basement, Staci was hesitant and let Max go first and at the second step Max realised why. The smell hit him; it was a kick to the stomach. The heady full scent of burning flesh that stuck to the back of his throat and gave him an instant headache, it was lucky he had eaten so little that morning. Pratt gagged behind him. At the bottom there was a small room with metal drawers that had been tipped over and the contents burned. At the centre of the room sat a stainless-steel table which had the corpse of some sort of animal. It was heavily burnt, and Max felt guilty that he was so relieved it wasn’t a person, the basement itself wasn’t too severely damaged and it was clearly purposeful. There was a heavily burned board on the wall and Max could only guess what secrets it could have held.

“One of my men noticed the broken windows on a patrol,” Eli talked slow like he had all the time in the world and with a steady tone that did nothing to hide how much the smell was affecting him, the disgusted snarl of his lips gave it away and Max found it reassuring. “This lodge actually belongs to one of my men and they rent it out every summer.” Pratt nodded but his eyes were trained on some documentation that was heavily burned in the corner, a few words could be made out. Something about wolves?

“I didn’t have anything to do with this, but I know who did.” Pratt’s scoff turned Eli’s smile sour instantly and Max wondered if they had disagreements often, Eli didn’t look surprised at all and Staci ignored his gaze as Eli squinted at him.

Max took the statement from Eli whilst Pratt looked around the room, Eli thought Jacob Seed was the man to talk to. He was guilty as sin in Eli’s eyes even though there wasn’t any evidence and no witness. Staci didn’t like the idea and Max could tell instantly, his shoulders tensed, his smile just that little bit forced before he left to call into the station to see how it was going. Eli was patient whilst Max asked various questions, just as he snapped the notebook shut Eli placed a hand on his shoulder but stopped him from turning to face him.

“You be careful with that one, he's blind it’ll get him into trouble in the end.” Blind? Pratt could see perfectly well, and Max had never seen him wear glasses. Could no one speak plainly in the county?

Staci didn’t say much when Max had finally resurfaced after reassuring Eli thoroughly that yes, he would investigate it. On the drive back to the station Staci was lost in thought, he even let Max drive and if that wasn’t reason for concern nothing ever would be. It was only when Max pulled up into the department carpark that Staci seemed to remember that he was a physical being and not the embodiment of sulking. It took a few light prods to the cheek, but Pratt jolted and laughed before punching Max’s shoulder before stretching his legs.

“We’re going drinking tonight; you want to join?” Apparently, the sheriff himself did the occasional night shift. Max agreed without a second thought, he could use a nice drink after such a weird day. Staci obviously felt bad for leaving Max to deal with Eli, he offered to write up the paperwork and process the statement and who was Max to decline such an offer. 

Pratt gave him a lift home before doing the paperwork however and Max wasn’t sure he would finish it any time soon. Hudson would pick them both up at 9 as she lived in Falls End, he didn’t know how he was getting home but that was a problem for future Max. If he really needed to it wasn’t too far of a walk even though he didn’t know the area that well yet. 

He decided to take the gauze of his shoulder and let the stitches breathe, by the time he showered and fixed his hair so it was out of his face Hudson was knocking on his door with Pratt waving from the truck. He had to answer in a towel and try to act unbothered at both Staci and Hudson eyeing his sculptured chest that he had worked very hard for thank you very much, she gave him 5 more minutes and Max had to carefully edge into the house without turning around. 

The shirt and jeans were good enough, he wouldn’t be picky not when they were going to be drinking in a bar called the Spread Eagle. A few buttons were left open, so his tattoo was visible. He could feel Pratt’s curious gaze the entire way and he gave him a pointed look.

“It’s not bad.” He was flustered at having been caught staring at the exposed skin of Max’s chest. “Just curious on why a plane.” Hudson’s head was craned to hear over the radio and he had to stifle a laugh, oh she thought she was being sneaky.

“An old partner of mine really liked planes.” Max hoped that was enough detail to satisfy as he wasn't talking without a few… lots of drinks. 

“They did it themself?” Hudson chimed in from the front and Max almost sighed, she always had to ask another question.

“Yep it was one of the first tattoos they ever did.” Max was saved by the blinding neon sign of the bar and he breathed a sigh of relief.

It was busy for a Tuesday, but Max supposed it was expected with how little there was to do, luckily there was a table near the bar that was free. It had a good view of the darts board so he couldn’t complain even if he couldn’t hear himself think over the loud chatter and clinking of drinks. Max brought the first round and it was a nice surprise to see such a difference in price compared to New York.

A few people came over to say hello, curious as to what the new deputy was all about. It would have been flattering if he were interested in meeting anyone, but everything was still too new. So, he fumbled around compliments with a flush, quick to engage with conversation not about him. Hudson or rather Joey as she had now asked to be called, laughed fondly every time he waved off the next drunk person who thought the small slither of exposed skin meant he was on the prowl. 

Pratt was surprisingly quiet as he sipped his beer, content to let Joey gossip to Max about random patrons. It seemed all she needed to loosen up was some strong vodka, it was funny how she delighted in how little he knew of the neighbourhood. Max didn’t fall drunk easily these days and yet in such good company he felt the effects of the double rum much faster than usual. 

It was nice to be able to forget the weakness of his shoulder, to let go of the anxiety that hadn’t quite left him even after moving halfway across the country. On the 3rd round that Max insisted he buy, he noticed someone sitting by themselves in the dark corner of the bar and the instant flair of interest couldn't be helped. They wore an oversized coat which was covered in tiny planes, it was obviously custom made. Joey was quick to notice and poked him when he plonked the drinks on the table with a wide grin, she whispered the name in his ear.

“John Seed, comes here often.” Staci glared at them both with a pout and Max couldn’t have controlled the level of his laugh even if he tried, with 3 doubles? and a few shots in he felt completely at ease. Mary May winked every time he went up to the bar and he swore she was giving him extra shots in every glass.

“Aww Pratt don’t look so sad people might think you're being a brat.” Joey laughed softly to herself and even though it clearly pissed Staci off he laughed loudly along with Max. No one noticed how a tense John Seed downed the rest of his brandy and promptly left without a word to anyone.

“Totally haven't heard that one before.” He patted Max on the shoulder roughly with a smirk which quickly turned to alarm as Max hissed between clenched teeth, the regret of not wearing the gauze flashed somewhere in the back of his mind. He couldn’t think of an excuse in his drunk state and Pratt was far too observant to believe any he gave so with a sigh after insisting that he was fine, Max promised to tell him later. 

Later ended up being much sooner as the second Pratt’s stopped trying to obsess over Max’s every facial expression he escaped to the bathroom. The Spread Eagle was such a small joint that it only had 2 toilets but to Max’s relief one had a mirror. 

He forgot to lock the door. After unbuttoning his shirt and letting it hang off one arm, wrinkles be damned. Max breathed a sigh of relief. The stitches hadn’t reopened but they had started to bleed lightly. He was thanking the stars that he chose a black shirt and not the fancy white one that remained barely worn, when Staci burst in the door. For the fraction of a second Staci was apologetic but then his eyes wondered over Max’s broad back only to gasp loudly. Max stood awkwardly as Pratt was quick to start dabbing at the blood with some tissue, this was not how the evening was supposed to go.

“You’re too drunk for this conversation but when you're not I will be asking.” Staci’s firm tone left no room for argument and Max grumbled an agreement like a scolded child. When they got back to the table Hudson wiggled her eyebrows at Staci, he rolled his eyes with a playful smirk and ruddy cheeks. Max from that point was on a mission, to get Pratt so drunk he wouldn’t remember the night. It didn’t matter that he had to drink as well, if they both forgot it would be for the best. 

Other than the initial slip up the night was fine with lots of laughs shared, Joey had just embarrassed Staci with a past story of how he had tried to arrest someone only to end up sleeping with them first. It didn’t surprise Max in the slightest, that playboy personality was a hard thing to keep a secret. Especially in small communities. 

Max even shared a few of his own, Hudson had laughed so hard until there were tears. When he told them the story of when he first moved to New York and being the country boy that he was, not being able to understand a single word anyone said to him with the thick New York accents. Staci had even giggled, it seemed 5 pints and Staci was as lax as Max. Joey was still composed but her eyes were glazed, and she had a permanent smile, it was nice to see her so at ease. 

“Who’s in tomorrow?” They both looked sheepish, so neither of them Max guessed.

“So, there is a fourth officer we may have forgotten to mention.” Quite a thing to neglect, Max wondered who the last desk was for, but he figured it was for him.

“Oh?” Staci was pointedly looking into his glass; it would have been funny how his eyes followed the bubbles if Hudson weren’t glaring at him. Scrap that it was funny, he looked like a scolded puppy and Joey couldn’t help but chuckle along with Max when Pratt sunk deeper into his seat.

“Yeah, Danny you’ll meet him soon enough.” Hudson kicked Pratt under the table, and he yelped, not very subtle. “He’s in tomorrow then on holiday for a few day’s you’ll probably meet him next week.” 

“WHY Hurk.” That’s all it took for Pratt to be giggling with a hand up to his face, a futile attempt to hide the sound. ‘Hurk’ had just spilt an entire pint of lager all over Joey’s lap, she was bright red and the intensity of her glare had Hurk even in such a drunk state fidgeting uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry Ma'am.” He was quick in the descent to the other side of the bar when Max offered to buy Hudson another drink. Hurk was slumped in his seat with his head on the table, Sharky was patting him softly but didn’t look very concerned so Max didn’t bother them other than a small wave to which Sharky grinned with a slight nod of the head. 

It was surprisingly chilly when Max stumbled out the door, Hudson left after that next drink. She couldn’t cope with being sticky and smelling like beer. Staci had stumbled out with him and Max had no idea where Pratt even lived.

“You want to crash at mine?” The choice was made for him as Max clutched his arm and they made the painfully slow journey. Staci was giggling the whole way, it was hilarious. Holland Valley at night was very pretty but a little unsettling. Max couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched the entire way back and even Staci kept looking behind them, but they got home without incident even though it took probably twice as long than needed.

Staci immediately crashed on the sofa and Max had a fond smile when he made sure Pratt wasn’t dead before going to bed. God help their heads in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated :D
> 
> Please give me serotonin!


	5. Barbecued regret

For the first time in weeks Max dreamt, he was back in New York and there was a woman sitting at the dining table in his apartment. He had forgotten how small it was, with barely enough space for a table let alone the chairs but they made it work. The woman handed him a cup of coffee and his fingers sparked where they brushed against hers. He took a tentative step around the table towards her and she smiled, gaze boring into him softly. Then she looked out of the window that she could only just see over Max’s shoulder. He watched the drop of her lips turn to resignation. Her eyes flicked to his for a second. Max could see the regret. A single bullet crashed through the window and impaled directly into the side of her temple and she slumped over the table before him. Eyes wide in shock and Max didn’t even realise he was crying.

“EMILY.” She couldn’t hear him even though the walls vibrated with the sound. The rough gravel of his throat restricted the words and he spluttered, forgetting to breathe. He was stunned, the pain that suddenly flared in his shoulder was almost missed even though it sent him falling to the floor with a groan. He only had eyes for Emily, who wasn’t moving. There was just enough sense in him to dial the hospital with trembling fingers. They could barely understand him on the phone he was talking so quietly, until he was shaking around tears repeating over and over to them as he choked on the blood pooling in his lung, and making its way up his throat only to dribble down his lips. “She’s dead, she’s dead, SHE’S DEAD.”

He’s shoved awake just as the paramedics moved Emily onto a stretcher, her eyes open facing him as she's moved from view. Someone lightly shook his shoulder and Max tried to push them away before he even opened his eyes. The sound of someone falling against his dresser with a curse chased away the lingering daze of sleep and his eyes snapped open to the person, Pratt he realised was getting up from the floor with a scowl. 

“Max?” He took hesitant steps closer, hands in the air so Max could see them clearly. To try to make him feel unthreatened and he could barely stand it.

“Fuck, Staci I’m sorry.” His voice broke around the words, eyes manic and searching but calming by the second. Max pushed his hair off his face and grimaced at how it was stuck to his forehead with sweat.

Staci took a deep breath before relaxing back against the dresser. He let out a shaky smile that Max would have returned if he hadn’t been so busy trying to catch his breath. He felt exhausted with tears drying on his cheeks, his back felt wet which meant he had been thrashing and had maybe broken the stitches as well. Staci noticed how he suddenly tensed, and he was unapologetic whilst he tugged on Max’s sleeve roughly.

“Come on let me see your back.” Shit Staci had remembered, there was nothing he could do but get up, on shaky legs and unbutton the black shirt he was still wearing from the night before. It was stuck to his skin and he shivered as the chilled air hit the overheated muscle, the sun was only just peaking over the horizon. At Staci’s sharp intake of air, he knew it was bad, it stung quite a bit.

Pratt left to look in the bathroom for supplies without a word and came back not a minute later with the first aid kit that Max knew was under the sink. He worked as gently as possible, first wiping away the blood then disinfecting the area. Pratt apologized when he couldn't hide the grunt of pain and Max almost scoffed. After this he would have so much grovelling to do, Pratt didn’t deserve to be stressed by any of this. Especially when he had a hangover that was probably as bad as his own. He should have known better than to let Staci crash around his, but they were both drunk.

“How bad is it?” Staci didn’t answer at first and Max gave him the time to think as he worked even as the silence hung heavily around them.

“It looks like you clawed it whilst asleep.” He paused and Max held his breath. “5 broken stitches.” That was a mighty pain in the ass, the first night he had slept without a gauze and this happened.

“I've got the number for the local clinic.” He shook his head softly with a light frown. “Please ring them today.” After all the stress he had put Staci through what more could he do but agree.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pratt wasn’t being pushy exactly, but he was stern, it helped when Max felt like he was tipping over the edge of a cliff.

“I was shot.” He tried to watch Pratt over his shoulder to gauge his reaction. “Along with someone who wasn’t meant to.” Disbelief wasn't an expression that Staci wore well.

“Because you were meant to be shot?” His tone was sharp, it was like Pratt had dealt with this kind of self-sabotaging before.

“I don’t know you that well but all you have been is kind Max.” Staci almost tripped over his words in the haste to make sure they were heard. “YOU weren’t meant to be shot it wasn’t your fault.” Max shrugged with a groan, Pratt was almost done with his back and it was a relief to feel the familiar gauze against his skin.

“Is that why you left New York.” The real question he had been dreading. “Because you were shot?” Max considered how to tell Staci without really telling him, could he tell him without endangering his life? With how far away they were it might just be ok. 

“I found out something I wasn’t supposed to,” Max cringed at the way his throat constricted, and he struggled to get the words out. “They tried to kill me, so I left.” Staci clearly wasn’t put off with how vague of an answer it was. 

“They killed someone else by mistake?” Max nodded and he had to look away from Staci's bare face, he was far too open with his emotions and Max couldn’t handle pity, not now. It seemed to be enough to satisfy for the moment as Pratt didn’t ask any more questions. He left to make coffee and Max wondered if he had fucked a potential friendship, he took the time to properly come around and then wondered downstairs. Staci was sipping his coffee smiling at his phone, another sat on the counter waiting for him.

Max gave Pratt a lift back and it was a long drive to the Whitetail Mountains. He wanted to be dropped off at a place that wasn’t his home. Apparently, he wanted to walk some of the way, something about the morning chill being good for his hangover. Max didn’t press even if it was bizarre, he left Pratt at the F.A.N.G centre with a wave. There was a joke about Staci joining the gorillas on the tip of his tongue, what with his bushy mane of a hairstyle that was currently all over the place, but he didn’t even know if they had any. The F.A.N.G centre appeared to be a mini zoo, but it wasn’t open yet, Staci was too engrossed in his Phone for Max to broach the conversation, so he promptly left.

Against his better judgement Max rang the local clinic on the way back to Holland Valley with his phone perched in his lap. He wasn’t looking forward to the scolding that would follow his first appointment. He had been lax with getting his injury looked after properly. The receptionist on the phone was alarmed when he explained briefly what was wrong and they booked him an appointment for later that day with such haste that they nearly forgot to ask for his name.

He just had time to go home and eat before leaving for the clinic. On the way out just as he was grabbing his keys, Max noticed the invitation sticking past a letter on the side. The date glared at him and with alarm he realised the BBQ was later in the day, he might just make it if the appointment went well. Max was trying to think of an excuse as he definitely had the time and he was interested as to what a potential cult had for BBQ, but there was a niggling thought in the back of his head, that questioned if it was a good idea. He couldn’t tell if it was due to the few warnings that had been given or if he was genuinely cautious for once in his life.

The decision was made for him, a little old woman met him in the clinic and the receptionist had smirked at her frown, being clearly unhappy with just how little care for his own wellbeing Max seemed to have. She was quick to remove the remaining stitches and instead replaced them with dissolvable ones to Max’s relief. He had strict orders to do as little exercise as possible less he damage the healing muscle more and be left with a huge scar. Not that he would be scar free, it was already going to be jagged and big, Max couldn't imagine it being any worse. Perhaps he could get a tattoo over it? He would have to wait of course; it would be too sensitive for a while after it had healed.

He had to come back in a few weeks’ time for a scan to see how his lung was healing, it had better be fine as having a tube inserted through the ribs wasn’t the most pleasant procedure he had ever had and the incision had almost stopped hurting. It had taken 2 hours and he was starving when he left, the prescription of codeine sat heavily in his pocket. He never liked taking pain killers or pills of any type and he probably didn’t need them, having gotten through the last week without using any.

The weather was perfect for a barbecue with a light breeze and the sun just peaking around clouds. Max found himself driving to the church without a thought, it was busy when he pulled up and a flash of anxiety washed over him when a few people began staring at him, without his uniform Max hoped they wouldn’t recognise that he was the new rookie. It seemed they were more curious because he was new and less that he was a deputy or so Max hoped.

There was a long table with a big spread of dishes and a grill that people were crowded around. The redhead was at the grill with a bored expression on his face, flipping burgers like he had the experience of a veteran fast food worker. The people that were crowded around him seemed content to talk among themselves, he wasn’t a big socialiser then which explained why he was cooking. People only went over to get food, so they couldn’t stay for long. Max had to give credit where it was due, it was a very smart move and the type of thing he would have done if he thought about it.

He took a little plate and got in line for the grill. The redhead was mildly surprised to see him with a slight brow lift and miniscule twitch at the side of his mouth, but he didn’t speak. Max liked to think of himself as a respectful individual, so he took the lone burger and continued as if he had the right to be mingling at a potential cult BBQ. With his past potential cult upbringing he figured there were a few brownie points.

There was a little table with a few bottles of beer and Max was extremely tempted but he had to drive so with a longing glance at the slowly dwindling bottles he turned away. Only to catch a glimpse of the plane trench coat, John froze for a heartbeat as Max glanced at him curiously. He didn’t even get a proper look at his face before the man had spun around and stomped off, he was quickly swallowed by the crowd. The sunglasses he wore made it difficult to pinpoint his expression, but it was an uncomfortable one, who wore sunglasses so late in the afternoon? It jogged a memory, rattled the box right in the back of Max’s mind. Something was on the tip of his tongue, something important but it slipped away.

The burger was still alone on his plate and Max couldn’t help but relate. The people around clearly tolerated him, but they didn’t try to be friendly. Max supposed he hadn’t bothered to mingle with anyone either. The redhead had somehow been pushed out of cooking and someone had taken his place. There was a table to the side with buns and condiments that was suspiciously void of people, Max didn’t know how he had missed it.

Some ketchup was fitting, he had just started to lather his bun when someone coughed besides him and the sight of ‘The father’ or Joseph so close and watching him with such intent made him jump and squeeze the bottle harder than intended. It went all over his hoodie and he couldn’t hide the frown as he heard a barely stifled deep chuckle to his left. 

The redhead was watching from a bench with mirth swimming on his features. Joseph looked for the likely first time in his life, lost for words. His face was flushed in what Max assumed second-hand embarrassment and it would have been funny, hilarious even if he had been anyone else but himself currently. 

“I’m sorry.” Joseph was already dabbing his grey hoodie with a wet cloth which had appeared from somewhere? “I should have announced myself properly.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Max was worried though. “I’m a naturally jumpy person.” Why did he say that? Anything else would have been better. Joseph hummed in thought and continued dabbing the last remains of sauce away. It seemed like he had caught it before it seeped into the fabric. 

“How are you settling in to Hope County Max?” He chose to ignore how The Father knew his name, that was a thought for when the man in question wasn’t watching his every move with a far too intelligent gaze. 

“Alright I think.” He wet his chapped lips. “I didn’t have much to bring over with me, so it’s been easy enough.” Joseph looked genuinely interested, it was far too easy to speak to him and Max once again wished he could just stop running at the mouth.

“Have you found a sufficient doctor yet?” A strange question but maybe Joseph was worried because of his line of work?

“Yes, thank you.” Joseph nodded but his eyes were caught on something behind Max. His attention returned just as quickly however, and Max was struck on how determination seemed to shape his features. 

“Did you leave anyone behind perhaps, family or a partner?” He was tentative and spoke slowly as if to choose the words carefully.

“No, no one.” That brought a smile to his face, curious. 

“That ketchup was homemade.” Oh no, he had wasted someone's hard effort. “Sitting down to enjoy it before it makes the bun soggy is worth a thought.” And with that, Joseph patted his shoulder suspiciously lightly before he walked past Max. John was facing away, when he collected himself enough to head to the benches. Joseph led John away to talk in private and Max couldn't help but be interested in a man that wouldn’t allow him to even see his face.

There weren't any seats left apart from next to the redhead. Max took a tentative seat and started to eat the burger which had gone cold. He munched away for a moment before a voice loudly made him jump once again. Max nearly choked on the burger and he had to contain a sharp frown for the person laughing next to him.

“You really are jumpy deputy.” The redhead had a gruff voice that was distinctive to recognise. After it was clear Max wasn’t going to contribute, he started up again.

“You know Joseph makes that ketchup himself.” Oh no, not only had he wasted homemade ketchup, but it was made by the potential cult leader himself! “You're the only person other than John to use it tonight.” 

“It's too vinegary for most folk.” He clearly liked the sound of his own voice and honestly Max liked the sound of it too. “I don’t mind it myself, but it can cause heartburn.” This afternoon was surreal, they were apparently a cult and here he was talking condiments.

“It’s a secret recipe and yet you ate it like it was the norm.” What was the point of the conversation? “John makes it just the same.” That was curious, what was he trying to get at? but he didn’t have time to ponder before his phone rang. It was the sheriff and he was quick to answer.

“We need you down at the station asap.” The sheriff was tense on the other end. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

“Half hour.” It would have to be fast enough.

“See you then Max.” The sheriff hung up before he could reply and Max stood, had just started walking away when the redhead cut him off.

“You're not what I expected Max.” He smiled and hoped his face didn’t give away just how confusing that statement was. He shoved the rest of the burger in his mouth instead of replying and took off for his car after waving awkwardly. Now that the redhead mentioned it, the ketchup was very vinegary, but Max enjoyed it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated :D
> 
> Please give me serotonin!


	6. How not to arrest a cult leader

The drive back to the house was a blur, it was a good thing he didn’t have that drink as it appeared Max would need all his wits, well what little he had to deal with the shit show that was waiting at the station. He drove possibly faster than what was strictly legal, but it was kind of an emergency? 

It took literally minutes before he hopped back in the car to the station. He made it in 20 minutes. Everyone was in by the looks of it, well maybe not Danny. He was still on holiday after all. There was a tense quietness to the department as Max walked in, Nancy didn’t even acknowledge that Max was there until he rapped on the window. She jumped and he was just about to apologise before he saw her face. She quickly shook her head at him with her lips pressed into a straight line before letting Max in.

Pratt and Hudson were leaning on one of the desks reading through a file, neither looked up as the door shut loudly behind him. The sheriff nodded solemnly at Max before his eyes, which were burning with barely concealed rage turned back to a man that Max had never met before. It was plainly obvious that he was a US marshal, it was written in bright yellow on the back of his vest. 

Max was resigned to the fate that they would probably be waiting for a few hours before anything happened, so he went up to Pratt and Hudson and caught a glimpse of a photo that made him frown, it was of Joseph Seed. There was an arrest warrant next to Hudson and Max shuddered, he needed a coffee before thinking about any of it.

He went over to the coffee machine and watched as it bubbled and gurgled, the machine was on the way out and Max wondered if that would be the last coffee it managed to splutter into existence. The marshal and sheriff were talking in hushed whispers, the kind where you whisper shout, and everyone can still hear. Seeing Whitehorse on edge was daunting to say the least, he had never seen the sheriff so frustrated. It all gave Max a bad feeling.

“Pratt get the helicopter started; we're going.” The sheriff left no room for argument and Hudson led Max to get equipped, a pistol was all he brought, and Hudson had a shotgun practically cradled in her arms. Max didn’t feel like he needed a gun at all with how kind, if a little strange Eden’s gate had been. He didn’t like using guns if he could help it.

The marshal followed without a word as they went to board Staci’s pride and joy, it was a surprise when Max had found out he hadn’t named the helicopter. The engine had already roared to life and Staci looked nervous, but he smiled reassuringly at Max from the cockpit.

Hudson sat in the front, which left Max opposite the sheriff and marshal. Hudson just had time to shove the file in Max’s hands before getting in the cockpit. His phone chimed just as they set off and Max tentatively checked it. A video from Staci awaited him, Hudson winked at him with Staci’s phone in her lap.

The video made him feel sick. It was a recording from the back of the church that Max instantly recognised as Eden's Gate. Joseph was preaching to his group and his gaze wandered around the room before settling on the camera which was shaking. Joseph knew he was being recorded instantly.

The man was dragged into the middle of the room after dropping the phone or camera and Joseph caressed his cheek in an almost loving manor before his thumbs dug into the man's eye sockets. It was hard to imagine that same man being concerned about Max spilling ketchup over himself. The file was burning a hole in his thighs, but he didn't want to read it, the arrest would be easier without the knowledge.

Max didn’t like the marshal; he had a smugness that was as plain as the words etched into his vest. He had met the type before, self-assured that because he wasn't a country man he was better somehow. The marshal didn’t know the area or the people. As nice as Eden’s Gate had been to Max the thought that they would happily give Joseph over didn’t sit well at all.

“Going over the Henbane now.” Pratt was a welcome distraction against the tight awkwardness that had settled around them. 

“Oh, fuck there he is.” Hudson was stunned and Max was quick to realise why. In the short few days since the visit to the Henbane, the building that Eden’s Gate had been working on was finished. However, it wasn’t a building at all, a statue of Joseph sat proudly on top of the hill. The sheer manpower needed would have been astounding and did nothing to quell the anxiety twisting in his stomach, it was huge. 

“How much longer?” The marshal was unfazed. Tone steady as he stared at Max or rather looked through him.

“Just long enough for you to change your mind.” But the sheriff clearly didn’t think the marshal would bite. “So we can turn this bird around.”

“You want me to ignore a federal warrant?” Back with the smugness, with what the marshal thought they were up against they didn’t have nearly enough people. Max didn’t know what sell fulfilling crap the marshal was playing at, but he knew from previous experience that it wouldn’t end well.

“No sir but I want you to understand the reality of the situation, Joseph Seed.” The sheriff sighed and the pointed look directed at everyone’s current pain in the ass went unnoticed. “He's not a man to be fucked with.”

“We’ve had run-ins with him before and things haven't always gone our way.” Max grit his teeth as the marshal rolled his eyes. “Sometimes it's best to leave well enough alone.”

“Yeah well we have laws for a reason sheriff and Joseph Seed’s going to learn that.” Perhaps the marshal was new to the job? It was stupid what they were doing and the marshal either didn’t realise or thought a potential promotion was worth it.

“Pratt open a call with dispatch.” The sheriff stared flatly before rolling his eyes at the marshal’s complete lack of care. Max tuned the conversation out; he knew people had warned him of Eden’s Gate, but he still couldn’t believe Joseph could outright murder a person like that. If the phone/ camera hadn’t fallen at the perfect angle they would have been none the wiser.

The church came into view and Max almost didn’t recognise it, the barbeque equipment was gone, and countless people lined the path to the church. They had guns, a lot of guns. The majority were pistols or shotguns but a few dotted around had rifles. 3 deputies, a sheriff and a marshal weren't enough to deal with this. The people watched the helicopter settle distrustfully and Max wondered if they were expected. In the hour and a bit since he left the barbeque all signs that it happened were gone and night had fallen. They were clearly an organised force to get ready so quickly unless someone told them. Who knew if Pratt, Danny or even Nancy went to Joseph’s sermons? None struck Max as being deeply religious, but he wasn’t either and he had gone. Hudson didn’t attend.

“Last chance marshal.” Max hoped all the guns stuck a cord with the self-righteous prick.

“Were going in.” He almost sounded like he didn’t want to, and it was nice to know the marshal was able to comprehend around all the ego between his ears that it was a bad idea. Not enough to leave though, the file was left in the front with Staci.

“Don’t be too long Rookie.” Barely concealed panic. “I wanted to go for drinks later.” Max nodded but couldn’t speak, this was such a bad idea. His shoulder ached as he fell into step besides Hudson and it was almost like a warning. Look how much they can hurt, why are you going near so many after last time?

Max kept his gaze forward; he’d stop if his gaze met any of the hardened faces. Instead he watched the back of the marshal’s head bob with his stupid walk. Max really couldn’t stand men like him. They reached the doors of the church somehow without being shot, which Max thought was a miracle. The marshal's face alone would have been enough if he were on the other side.

“Woah marshal we do this we do it my way, quietly calmly you got it.” The sheriff had barely managed to stop the marshal from barging in. Singing could be heard through the doors and it should have relaxed Max, but it sent his heart racing. 

“Fine.” It was through gritted teeth and Max felt Hudson tense up beside him as she was left guarding the doors, shotgun held tightly but pointed at the floor for now.

“And you.” Clear distaste was written on his features. “Just try not to do anything stupid.” Max almost pointed out how the marshal had already failed. The singing stopped as the doors opened, and Max was immediately greeted by the calm voice of Joseph Seed.

“Something is coming you can feel it can’t you.” The church wasn’t even half full but countless people had guns at the pews this time. The majority were outside waiting.

“We are creeping towards the edge and there will be a reckoning.” Joseph wasn’t looking at them as he spoke. “That is why we started this project.”

“Because we know what happens next.” Just like the last time Max found himself becoming lost in the sweet tone, his voice was so compelling that Max struggled to walk forward with each syllable that left his lips. 

“They will come, they will try to take from us, take our guns, take our freedom, take our FAITH.” It was as if there was a weight in his chest that got tighter and tighter the further he walked.

“We will not let them.” The marshal was restless, fingers hanging with purpose next to the gun that sat at his hip. He muttered something to the sheriff and the response was almost comical, a panicked hiss from the sheriff.

“We will not let their greed, their immorality and their depravity hurt us anymore.”

“There will be no more suffering-” The marshal cut him off with an arrogant flourish of the arrest warrant.

“Fuck this.” He just couldn’t wait. “Joseph Seed I have a warrant for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm.” Max should have read the file.

“Now I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see them.” There were shouts from the pews, clearly the Father wasn’t often if ever interrupted. 

“There they are the locust’s in our garden.” People started to move towards them, and Joseph spread his arms before them. “See they’ve come for me.” If anything, Joseph was an excellent public speaker.

“They’ve come to take me away from you, they’ve come to destroy everything that we’ve built.” Max didn’t like where the tone of this was going, there was a barely controlled violence. A building pressure around the room that threatened to burst at any second.

“DO NOT TOUCH THAT SERVICE WEAPON.” Even now the marshal thought he could get the upper hand, but the sheriff knew otherwise. The marshal’s thinly veiled sense of control did nothing to the stream of rising voices as his fingers flexed at his hip. Max wondered if this were it, if the stupidity of one man could bring them all crashing down. Never to be heard of again.

Joseph stepped off the stage, the crowd parted before him like the red sea and their voices rang silent as he smiled at his followers.

“We knew this moment would come and we have prepared for it.” Max almost missed what was said as he finally looked behind Joseph, he should have read the file. “go, go.” For the first time since Max moved to Hope County, he looked upon John Seed who unsurprisingly was watching him back. How had Max missed this? How had he not realised? It shouldn't have taken him this long to realise but Max hadn’t known John Seed. John Duncan, however.

John was emotionless before him and that hurt more than the now obvious fact that he had been avoiding Max. It was him, there was no mistaking those blue eyes. The redhead besides John watched Max as if he were bored but he was stock still, tense and ready to react if he needed to. Faith was watching him from behind John with poorly concealed interest.

“God will not let them take me.” The people pushing past him to leave the church obscured the annoyingly perfect picture of John and Max closed his eyes with a frown before putting the thoughts away. He couldn’t think about it now or he would never leave, trapped in those eyes.

“I saw when the lamb opened the first seal and I heard as if it were the noise of thunder.” Joseph raised his arms high to the ceiling and Max wondered how he would react to going in for the hug that Joseph seemed to be offering. Maybe everyone in the room needed a damn hug, Max needed one.

“One of the four beasts to say come and see-” But his features were alight with determination and Max knew it would only earn him another bullet wound.

“Step forward.” The marshal practically growled with venom. Did he have experience with fanatics, or did he think that sounded intimidating?

“And I saw and behold it was white horse.” Joseph finally cast his gaze to Max with an almost pitting expression. “And hell followed with him.” Joseph stuck his arms out to be cuffed and Max didn’t believe it for a second.

“Rookie, cuff this son of a bitch.” Max grit his teeth and his eyes flicked to the marshal for a second before landing back to Joseph. The sheriff was oddly silent besides him, seemingly content to let Max decide whether to listen. 

“God will not let you take me.” Even Joseph’s piercing gaze couldn’t stop his attention from flicking back to John and a small smile tugged on the face that became more confident by the second. Joseph stepped closer and Max could feel the warm caress of his breath upon his face.

“I knew you would come for him.” Max couldn’t do it, not with how John was pleading with only his eyes. “God has led you back to your rightful place.” There were too many emotions clashing all at once. He forced his focus back to Joseph, but it was pointless, the damn was open.

His John, Max had always wondered what had happened to him and the answer was in front of him at last. Reunited with his long-lost brothers, the one’s he always talked about so longingly. He had wondered all those years ago if he would get to meet them and he's sure he wouldn’t have even come close to guessing this would be how they finally met.

It must have been an uncomfortably long pause because Max flinched as the marshal’s voice rang around the silent church far too close to be shouting in his ear at this point.

“What are you waiting for!” Max wouldn’t do it; he couldn’t do it to John even if the man now was a completely different person. The vulnerable John Duncan deserved all the happiness he could get after it took so long to find them. Cult or no cult be damned.

“Why don’t you do it!” Max would at the very least get reprimanded for this, even lose his job but the money wasn’t an issue so present Max didn’t give a fuck. Let future Max suffer the consequences. With more force than necessary Max pushed his service handcuffs into the marshal’s hand and walked out of the church. Fuck this place, fuck John Seed and fuck the marshal. He was proud that he walked straight without looking back even if the burning gazes bored into the back of his head.

Hudson almost got hit in the face by the door and Max took a deep breath, apologised and made his way steadily back to the helicopter. One foot in front of the other, she stayed put and Max didn’t blame her in the slightest. No one stopped him on the way, he didn’t have the Father, so he didn’t matter. Max hastily jumped in the front, there was no way he would be sat next to the marshal the way back to the station. After a moment he gasped, and it seemed Max had held his breath the entire way.

“What are you doing?” Staci looked like a lost puppy when he was confused and it made him feel infinitely better, it loosened the belt around his chest.

“I couldn’t do it.” Max turned his back to the church; he had seen enough of it for the moment. “I know John Seed from before I-” He trailed off as Staci’s face paled and sweat started to bead on his brow.

“Fuck don’t be upset Max.” Staci had never been this nervous. “But I told Jacob about what happened to you in New York … about your injury.” Staci took a deep breath and looked away hastily.

“The redhead?” Pratt nodded and with a sigh Max lightly rubbed Staci’s shoulder.

“You didn’t know it’s Ok.” Staci still felt bad however and he stumbled over a few words before he could get the sentence out, clearly Max was being extremely nice or someone had treated Pratt in an undeserving way. 

“I-I only mentioned it because he also suffers from PTSD and I needed advice.” Max believed him; Staci may be a jerk but there wasn’t any genuine malice. With a nod they fell into a tense silence, Max wondered if the marshal had the balls to go through the arrest himself or if he would ask Hudson. Max didn’t think to ask how he knew one of the Seeds had PTSD.

“That fucker will doom us all.” Staci started to hyperventilate and as Max followed his gaze to rest on Hudson leading Joseph Seed in handcuffs, he realised why. The marshal looked ready to shoot the next person who looked at him. Max never liked trigger happy cops.

“Take a breath Staci.” Pratt looked like he was going to pass out, perhaps he should swap. Be the pilot and he could fly after all. “You need to keep calm alright we’ll stick together.” That seemed to calm him down and by the time Joseph Seed was just outside the helicopter, you wouldn’t know Pratt had a minor breakdown.

Joseph Seed locked eyes with Max as he was led into the back and all hell broke loose, Max nearly missed the look of surprised reverence that Joseph gave him. They were barely a metre of the floor when people started to throw themselves onto the helicopter. The added weight gave them a shaky take off and Max was stunned at how easily the marshal shot the person who was grabbing onto his forearm, they were unarmed. Frantic with panic to save Joseph and the marshal didn’t seem fazed. Max managed to tear his eyes away before he saw their body hit the floor. 

Someone just had to fling themselves into the rotor system and just when they gained real height. They must have been climbing up mid-air, a crash at the height they were would be-

“SHIT WE’RE GOING DOWN.” Max could see that just about, around all the blood covering the windows, which didn’t say much for Pratt’s visuals. As the ground became closer and closer Max wondered if John were worried, he would be of course for Joseph. A quick glance in the back and it was surreal. Hudson was frozen in shock and the marshal was shouting at the sheriff who wasn’t listening at all. Over the sound of the screeching machinery it was just hearable, Joseph Seed sang Amazing Grace with the world spinning and spinning until nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guess the little twist before this chapter? :D
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated :D
> 
> Please give me serotonin!


	7. Strange minds with stranger behaviours

Heat, scolding warmth flowed up his facial nervous like water. Max flinched with as much enthusiasm as a paralytic drunk. Light came into focus too fast for his half-lidded eyes and the flames that licked up the windows before him were dazzling and pretty in a very shit we need to move, morbid way. He struggled to breathe but his arms wouldn’t move. Someone was groaning loudly, and he would have cursed them if he could, it was almost deafening against the otherwise silent wreckage. The lack of oxygen made him dizzy and spots floated in front of him when he moved his neck tentatively. 

Pratt was slumped besides him and Max held his breath until he saw the slight movement of his chest. It turned out Max had been the one groaning, limbs that felt like lead were clumsy to unfasten the belt which was cutting into his chest. No wonder it was hard to breathe.

He couldn’t shield the fall forward onto the dashboard and he hit his nose off the sharp metal with as much grace as a piano falling from a great height, but he was free. The muscles in his left shoulder protested loudly but he had to see if everyone was alright. Where the fuck was Joseph? 

Everyone else appeared to be having a nap and Max almost choked on the raspy inhale, when had his nose started bleeding? It was thick in the back of his throat and Max could almost hear the heavy traffic that always kept him up in the apartment. He could smell the old chairs that had been in the kitchen and the brand of coffee he used to get specifically from a local brewer in New York. Intense anxiety tightened its hold around his ribcage and Max thought he was going to pass out until a wavering voice squeaked out of the radio in the back.

Nancy was a welcome distraction; she must have been terrified. She sounded on the verge of tears, with gritted teeth Max turned as much as possible then reached for the radio dangling in front of Hudson. His fingers brushed it, but he couldn’t get a proper grip. Finally, with pain that made his stomach churn, Max’s fingers closed tightly around the black plastic.

Just as Max started to pull radio closer, Joseph gripped his wrist in a harsh grip which contrasted sharply with the concern that shone through his eyes as Max breathed in sharp little gasps. Max couldn’t catch a break with this county.

“Dispatch everything’s fine here no need to send anyone.” Fucking Nancy, the only person who could have made the situation bearable and she was a part of Eden’s Gate. They were alone, she hastily agreed before the line went dead and it sunk in. The realisation must have shown on his face, she wouldn’t call for help. Joseph wiped away some of the blood that had trickled down his chin softly, it almost seemed caring before pulling away.

“I told you God wouldn’t let you take me.” Max watched in furious fascination as Joseph stepped out of the wreck with nothing but a scratch on his face. “No one’s coming to save you.” Goosebumps arose on his arms and Max knew he was right. He almost wished he were back in New York, but Pratt finally started wiggling besides him and the initial joy fell at the pain on Staci’s face.

Max moved the fastest he could to unfasten Pratt and he could hear Joseph proclaim to the followers who were surrounding him in endless raised voices full of joy, faith restored. Pratt didn’t seem to be injured but Max knew it was quite possible he had a head injury. 

“BEGIN THE REAPING.” Of all the things Max could have wanted to hear, that wasn't it. Pratt pushed him backwards out onto his ass just as the fire started creeping inside the cockpit. Hudson’s panicked curses drew their attention and Max clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt as the marshal took off without a glance back. Abandoning them, abandoning Joey and the sheriff to the cult. Max was sure they were a cult at this point. 

She went kicking and screaming but there were too many of them, Whitehorse was still out, and Max sent a quick prayer that he wasn’t dead. The first prayer he had sent in many years. Staci dragged him to his feet and they shakily ran or attempted to, it was made apparent very quickly that Pratt had hurt his ankle. A sprain Max thought, hoped.

They heard people behind them calling out, pleading that they, sinners joined the righteous Eden’s Gate. A dozen armed followers sped along the dirt path before them and Pratt looked exhausted where he lay on the forest floor just out of sight. Max was beginning to become tired; the initial adrenaline was starting to wear off and there was still a slight wheeze to his breath. He would have preferred a cracked or even broken rib to potentially reopening deep wounds, he wasn’t immediately dying so it couldn’t be too bad?

“I can’t do this Max.” Staci looked as defeated as Max felt. He favoured the left ankle when Max hoisted him up, the hiss of pain as weight was tentatively distributed didn’t go unnoticed.

“We have to.” Max was almost pleading. “Who knows what they’ll do if they catch us.” He didn’t know the area well enough for this. Thick forestry surrounded them; they couldn’t have been more than a mile away from the wreckage. He knew the way back to Falls End by the road but that probably wouldn’t be a good idea especially with how slow they had to go for not only Staci but for Max as well. 

Pratt didn’t look particularly bothered with the thought of being captured and it should have bothered Max, but he couldn’t find the energy to think about it. Staci’s phone chimed somewhere in his uniform and Max wasn’t curious at first but then he went pale, ignored the message, and couldn’t meet Max’s inquisitive expression. 

They pushed through, kept walking even when Max had to hold Pratt upright because his ankle hurt too much. They didn’t see much on the roads, but it was early, or late depending on who asked. It was a relief when Max started recognising the fields, they were close to his house. Max was so distracted by his own thoughts trying to remember what was in the first aid kit under his sink, that he didn't hear the shifting of gravel. Rubber rolling on tarmac until Staci’s weak pull on his arm snapped his attention. It wasn't easy, but they managed it, Max lifted Staci completely off the ground and darted into the undergrowth. It took the breath out of him, but he would have been holding it anyway as the truck sped past them with cultists fully decked out with guns. There were specks in his vision and it took a moment to realise that the panic in Pratt’s face wasn’t because of the truck that drove right on by but because Max hadn't taken a breath in over a minute and his face was going red.

The air that’s sucked in through clenched teeth did not completely relieve the burn for oxygen and Max would have laughed if he had the air available. Hyperventilation wouldn’t help so he stayed put on the hard dry soil and took in deep, slow full breaths of air. One of his lungs was still working perfectly and the dizziness subsided gradually, painfully slowly. Staci was weary on the floor next to him, every inhale sent needles of pain through his chest. His muscles still screamed in his upper back and the warning from the doctor vibrated around his pounding skull. It was hopefully a small tear and nothing more.

Staci refused to move, forcing Max to rest and it was intelligent as it was stupid. They are out in the open. Vulnerable to whatever the cult deemed reaping to mean, the longer they waited the closer to crashing Max became. He ended up staring at the sky for a few minutes. Being surrounded by the countryside made the stars much brighter than in New York and it was mesmerising. It was only when his heart stopped racing that Max stood and his confidence grew when he didn’t get dizzy or wobble. 

Pratt didn’t talk much, just an acknowledging grunt of pain when Max pulled him up, his phone kept on beeping. Whoever wanted his attention clearly wasn’t used to being ignored, Staci was close to giving into the pull of sleep. Fatigue had a stronghold on them both, being hungover didn’t help in the slightest but they were close. Max could see his backyard and they pushed on, through the backdoor with the broken lock. Upstairs to the mattress which rested on the floor, the frame still in New York. 

Pratt sighed in relief as the weight could finally be taken off his ankle, perched on the edge of Max’s bed. The first aid kit had the right type of bandages and Max was quick to wrap them around Staci’s swollen and bruised ankle, compression bandages. He took the painkillers without a word and flopped backwards onto the soft sheets; Staci was out before his head hit the pillow. Max wanted to take painkillers, but he was too worried, what if his chest got worse and he couldn’t tell?

It was dangerous to stay at his house, so close to Falls End and after a fitful sleep that couldn’t have been more than 4 hours, Max slugged out of bed and felt even more tired than before. Max had a shower first, the blood flowing down the drain was interesting in a way that shouldn’t have been. Pratt knocked loudly when he had been too long and with difficulty he tore his eyes away from the dark red, there was a small cut on his head that he didn’t notice. Max wondered if the furniture would ever get delivered. 

Staci was even quicker, and Max barely had time to sip his coffee after packing a rucksack before Pratt stumbled down the stairs with a grimace. He, in what could only be described as chugged the coffee along with some more painkillers and they were ready. Going through the front door was risky but Max wasn’t thinking clearly, and he would have stood on the small package that was on his doorstep and addressed to him, if Staci hadn’t gripped him by the back of the shirt. They both stared at it tentatively as if the delicately wrapped parcel could launch off the ground and with this county it could have.

There was a phone inside but nothing too fancy, Max didn’t order a phone. Not even a drunk purchase would have gotten into the Valley that quickly. A message awaited him, and Max sighed recognising who it was from instantly. 

“After all this time, do you still miss me?” The message was sent 2 hours ago, did someone deliver it whilst he was asleep, or had it been sitting all afternoon? They didn’t check the front of the house on the way in and Max would probably never find out. He tried to call the closest department out of Hope County but there was no signal, there was no calling for help. Max ignored the message for the moment and pocketed the phone before putting away all the panicked thoughts for later. 

“Where are we going?” Max didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know where Hudson was, or the sheriff and he certainly didn’t want to be the one who had to make all the hard decisions.

“The Whitetails, Eli has manpower.” Staci had the answer prepared and would have suggested it anyway if Max had said differently, with how smoothly it came off his tongue and a determined gleam to his expression that spoke volumes. 

“We need a vehicle.” Max didn’t want to go back to the sheriff's department, would Nancy still be there? But both his and Pratt’s cars were there. Max didn’t know how to hotwire cars either, so they had little choice.

“Wait in the house and I’ll bring my car back.” Staci rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t walk far and traveling to the Whitetail Mountains would take too long on foot.

“Take mine.” Max just about caught the keys before they smacked him in the face. “It has a quieter start up.” It was better for off road driving as well. He left without another word, the longer it took the more likely he would be spotted with the rising sun. Max moved fast with a constant watch on the road besides him, the bushes kept him covered. The sun had only just started to peak around the clouds and a few houses had been clearly broken into but there weren't any visible bodies. Max hoped the residents were ok, that they had gotten out in time.

He was close to Falls End and the buildings weren’t in shambles yet. The sight made him reckless and Max was walking down the main road before he had a chance to think. They spotted him before he realised and with the screeching of tires Max froze instead of fleeing, not that he could have outrun a vehicle. A white van with the Eden’s Gate logo awaited him, a dozen or so men with assault rifles regarded him suspiciously and Max thought himself lucky that they hadn’t shot him on sight even as his blood ran cold at the tightened grip around the guns. One watched him from the passenger side of the truck with clear distaste and spoke into a radio quickly with clipped sentences like he was being cut off. The man sighed away from the radio with his palm over the receiver then turned to Max and frustration was clear on his features.

“You might want to reply to that message that was sent to ya, friend.” Max wasn’t his friend not with how much venom he thrust into his voice, he added far too many syllables to it. After another round of short ‘talking’ over the radio the truck continued to Fall’s End like he hadn’t been there. John was making this easy for him, playing with him before sending out the tough boys it seemed. Once his racing heart calmed to a steady thump, Max focused on getting to the department. It didn’t take long, not with how deserted the streets were.

There was a hole in the fence that was due to be repaired next week and Max crouched through the gap easily, he tip-toed behind cars leading to Pratt’s truck, why did he have to park the furthest away from the gate. There was commotion at the entrance to the department with a few followers surrounding a barely contained John Seed.

“HAS he been here?” John was watching the main gate to the car park with furrowed brows and an impatient tap of the foot. He was seemingly disinterested with the man who looked mighty uncomfortable under the sharp gaze before him.

“Who?” The man who Max had never met before was shifting on his feet in a deputy uniform, Danny assumingly. He was taller than John, a lot of people were and the bulk of his shoulders would be intimidating if the pistol currently resting at the back of his neck allowed him to move.

“Don’t fuck around with me Danny.” John took a deep breath and attempted to put away his volatile cascading irritation. “The new deputy of course.” John wasn’t a man to be denied what he wanted even back when he went by John Duncan and it appeared, he was even less patient. Max didn’t know how that was remotely possible. What games was John playing.

“I haven't met him yet so no.” John didn’t believe him and if the positions were switched Max wouldn’t have either. There was a tense silence as John weighed up his options before he gave the slightest nod to one of the followers who was watching for the signal. It happened so fast Max almost missed it, a needle to the throat sent Danny to the floor instantly and he was a hefty bloke. What was in there? Horse tranquilizers? 

He was dragged to one of the many trucks and dumped unceremoniously in the back, John lent against the hood of one of the trucks closest to the door and waited another 10 minutes. Max’s knees were going numb holding the position behind Staci’s truck. He didn’t dare open it whilst so many able-bodied individuals with guns stood not 5 metres away. 

Nancy came out of the department just as they were readying to leave, and John whispered something in her ear. She nodded and went back inside, so Nancy was waiting to see if they showed up? To turn them in no doubt and Max sneered at her retreating form, was she too scared to retaliate or was she happy to dub her fellow colleagues in without a second thought. 

Luckily for Max and his straining knees, John and his followers left promptly, and Max could finally stiffly stand and unlock the spacious truck. Even if Nancy noticed before he left, Max assumed they couldn’t get back in time. The engine purred to life and Max breathed a sigh of relief as the sheriff department got smaller behind him. Max’s good fortune seemed endless as he pulled into his driveway after a quiet drive in which he once again met no one on the roads. John might have made sure the way back was clear but to what end Max didn’t know.

Staci was out of the door before Max could turn the engine off, he kept glancing at something in the distance as he swung the door open and clambered in. Max tried to spot what was so interesting and it kind of looked like-

“Is that a drone?” The drone? Was overhead as he put the truck in reverse and sped off. It followed from a distance in a wide arch to take in the surroundings, no doubt relaying their location to wherever it came from.

“It’s been circling the house for half an hour.” Staci watched the drone follow far above them. “But I don’t think it noticed me until I came out.” It had noticed them now and Max was impressed with how it kept up easily with his less than safe driving. It must have been expensive.

“They’ve got D anny.” Pratt swore, and his fists came down hard on the dashboard, it meant they were the last deputies in all of Hope County. 

“You sure?” Max wished he weren’t, assuming everything was fine, and the cult let them exist which was extremely doubtful. Two deputies weren’t enough to deal with a cult uprising, Nancy didn’t count.

“I saw him get drugged so I’m sure, John took him.” Staci sucked in a sharp breath and slumped back against his seat; his eyes pointed firmly on their surroundings as they weaved down little winding roads, the beautiful scenery forgotten as anxiety swam around the enclosed space of the car.

“Did he see you?” the drone was still above them as they drew near the edge of Holland Valley and crossed the bridge that marked the decent into the mountains, would the cult really use drones? John always had more money than sense, so it was possible. 

“No.” Max didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure, they were low on fuel but there was a gas station nearby. Stopping was dangerous. Not that he had a choice as the little fuel gage flashed showing that they were nearly empty. The drone continued to circle the area as they parked up and it rose so high that Max had to squint into the morning sun just to see it.

The garage was empty, and Max was hypervigilant. No one was in the little shop that sat at the back away from all the pumps, there was blood behind the counter but no body. A trail of blood stained the wooden floor all the way into the back. Max didn’t want to see what was at the end. They needed to leave.

The truck filled in what felt like slow motion, the entire time Max’s eyes darted around but he couldn’t see anything. A loud yelp echoed behind him and as Max whipped around Staci crumpled to the ground with a loud groan. His ankle was stuck out awkwardly. 

Max ducked down and slowly with his back to the truck eased around to check on Staci.  
He was out cold with an arrow embedded in his thigh. The sound of shifting undergrowth made Max tense and look around only to barely spot a group of people with bows and red masks on the opposite side of the road, before an arrow hit his calf with a horrific thud and he went down like a sack of potatoes. The world spun and he groaned on the floor as pain flared through his nerves like fire and his sight morphed into a speckled green. 

“Resistant already.” Max’s eyes were scarcely open, but he managed to frown at the blurry figure who, using a foot rolled him over and grinned darkly at someone out of sight before a needle plunged into his throat and made the ground feel like it dropped beneath him. Max could just see that Staci’s blurred frame was placed gently into the truck through his streaming eyes before he gave into the inescapable pull that tugged on his senses like a plucked string.


	8. The fires of hell are close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forward to posting this chapter :D 
> 
> It was super fun to write this one!
> 
> Just a heads up if you're sensitive or could find this triggering, there's graphic descriptions of being set on fire in this chapter!  
> It's only a short segment but I felt the need to mention it, just in case.

Max was groggy, a pounding headache and sore eyes awaited him as he gently rose from the meadow floor. A meadow? He had just been with Staci getting gas. How did he get there? There was but a phantom ache and no visible injury, not even a scratch. Something was off.

The meadow was golden with dark greens and browns blending into the landscape, Max was swallowed by the sound of birds and wind rustling leaves, of the grass brushing his open palms as he walked. The anxiety that clung to his skin like sweat started to ease as the breeze blew away any remaining doubt that he wasn't exactly where he was supposed to be. All his worries seemed to blow away on the wind.

The sky was clear blue with a green tinge in his peripheral vision that glimmered as he spun in a circle with a snort of a laugh. He had never been to this part of the county before and he didn’t want to leave, who knew if he would find it ever again. A few colourful butterflies flew across his vision and he found himself following them deeper into the meadow. They led him between the gentle swaying of willow trees, further until he was surrounded almost entirely by tall wildflowers.

There were no people and Max found it strange that such a beautiful place was empty, the further he walked the easier it became. The scent of freshly cut fruit on the air was such a lovely distraction. He stumbled over a loose stone and a hand gripped around his arm tightly, they pulled him up and he gasped as Max came to face Joseph Seed who was smiling softly with a charming pink to his cheeks and a green hue to his normally bright blue eyes. The skin started to burn where his arm had been touched. 

“Welcome Max.” Joseph pulled him in a seemingly purposeful direction towards the shadowed trees swirling ahead like smoke. “You are here to finally see the truth.” He spoke in a soft voice that grew more determined by the second, Max could do nothing but be dragged along. He observed with shocked curiosity when Joseph’s pupils became fire and his skin flaked away from his skin, it exposed the embers beneath when they finally reached the swirling grey. Which lifted the hair that had fallen in front of the Fathers face, as if encouraging Max to look.

“Where are we Joseph?” The Father ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken but the grip on his arm tightened until Max could feel nails digging painfully into the flesh.

“Are you ready to see what we can do for you at Eden’s Gate?” Max said nothing and they walked for hours. Past the trees and the little stream, through even when the breeze took from Joseph, until they entered what looked like the same meadow as before, but the wind crashed around them like angry waves.

It was only when Max caught sight of the white of bone that he had to ask. Curiosity poured from his fingers and set the embers aflame, Joseph seemed unaware or unfazed that the fire now washed over his shoulders and had started to melt his ears with the tattooed ink of his chest running down to stain the denim of his jeans.

“Does it hurt?” Joseph stopped dead and Max bumped into him, bits of ash stuck to his skin and Max almost didn’t notice the bewildered man who watched Max in concern, the ash fused to his arm. The more he tried to rub it away the more there was. Confusion was a funny expression on his face, the way his eyes gleamed or Max supposed would have if they weren’t pools of flame.

“Does what hurt?” Joseph was quiet as Max studied his face, Just the socket remained with smoke rising above his head as the fire burned stronger, hotter. The grass besides them had started to go black and Max coughed on the smoke that had started to fill the air.

“Do you see it?” Joseph’s loud bellow of a shout cut through the ash filling his ears. Max wondered what the expression he pulled was for there was no way to tell. The Fathers entire face was on fire and Max watched with morbid curiosity and horror as the skin melted down onto the wildflowers below. Which were instantly set aflame and for the first time Max felt concerned, the ash on his arm was spreading, it cracked his skin all the way down to his fingers. 

“You set my fingers on fire Joseph.” The entity before him gasped and its spindly fingers stroked over the swell of his cheeks, it left blackened skin in his wake. “That was very rude.”

“God is trying to show you.” The voice seemed to come from all around him, the entire meadow was on fire. “You have been given a gift.” Joseph’s entire body was shrouded by flame, Max shuddered as the skin bubbled and popped but he didn’t seem to be in any pain.

“See what is going to come.” He spread his arms wide and Max flinched when a loud boom crashed through the meadow, it brought a boiling wind that blew all the flesh from Joseph's body and Joseph’s opened his jaw as if to laugh before the bones disintegrated into nothing. Max was frozen and the wind stoked the steady blaze that had torn through the many wildflowers around him. Max was alone. The ground trembled under his feet and Max wandered if he would be swallowed.

He coughed and rasped a breath around the hot ash that itched his throat and hardened in his lungs. The fire lapped at his ankles and it felt like the forceful hold of the sea. Max felt himself become consumed in the flames; it stroked his skin like a warm blanket in the dead of winter. He stumbled further and with each step he grew hotter, there was a trail of ash left behind as he walked deeper into the meadow. He dared not look down for Max didn’t know how much was left.

Max had no idea where he was, the fire spread from his feet to any healthy patch of grass and he grew angry as every inch of paradise burned around him. There was a hill in the distance with one flower protruding from stone, perhaps Max would be able to work out where he was from there? He didn’t want to move as he knew only destruction would follow him but there was an unavoidable fury that pushed him forward. The flower remained pristine on the hillside; it was growing out of a grave. Emily was written on the tombstone and Max felt the fires burn higher with the emotion that escaped the cracks in his skin. Anger, sadness and guilt. 

Why was she here? How could she have been laid to rest in Hope County? Max plucked the flower from the gaps in the tombstone and all the air was pulled from him. He felt the inescapable burn for oxygen and the smell of the flower smoothed his fragile nervousness when he took in rasped pitiful lungful’s of air. It smelt like a sweet yet spicy fruit and left him thirsty. So thirsty that he moved over the hill and towards a green lake, the fire burned the grass around it but could not touch the water. Max enjoyed the hiss of his skin as he walked into the pristine water, smoke was everywhere, and it took him a moment to realise it was because of the contrast of temperatures. Max looked down into the cool water and his heart bounced behind his ribs. The skin of his chest was cut with the word wraith painfully carved over his collarbone; Max couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the shimmering water because the fire still burned his body. The skin of his chest was too cracked to tell, the reflection’s face was hidden under flame, but the eyes were just visible. They had cloudy green eyes not just the iris but the whites as well and it reminded him of Faith. 

Max walked until the water lapped gently at his chest and he tried to spot the carved sin but still he couldn’t tell. Maybe if he walked further in, under the water he would be able to see? Max took half a step forward then lost his footing. He fell forward and the sound of stormy waves crashed against his ears, the water quickly filled his lungs and he felt the need to cough. It cooled the ache in his throat, but it filled his chest like he had swallowed stones. Why couldn’t he cough? Max found himself paralysed under the water; his limbs wouldn’t push him up. There was a coaxing pressure on his back and Max choked on the water in his mouth, he felt it dribble down his lips. How was that possible when he was surrounded by water?

“He’s choking!” The voice was slow and muffled through the water. Max started to thrash, his limbs started working all at once and he broke the surface of the water and all the way until he slumped forward on the charred remains of the grass. Max felt the rumbling sigh of relief and a breath coaxed the embers on his face; the ash of the burnt grass stuck to his wet face with a searing heat. The sensation caused him to snap open his eyes and the blinding overhead light made him groan. He tried to sit up but the pain in his head was quick to force him back down.

“Are you alright?” Staci sounded like he was to his left and Max grumbled out something that had people around the room laughing, it broke the strange tension and Max fully opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. Staci was indeed to his left and he smiled brightly, John was to his right. He looked tired but he squeezed Max’s arms reassuringly before setting an empty glass of water down on the table besides the bed. Joseph was sitting in the corner of the room, staring. The look of awe that was cast his way had Max’s hair prickling on end and he shuddered as the image of Joseph on fire flashed behind his eyelids when he blinked.

“John didn’t mean to nearly drown you,” Joseph spoke softly. “God has chosen you.” His eyes were alight with determined reverence to Max’s relief instead of fire.

“In my defence you asked for the water.” John dabbed the water from Max’s chin with a cloth as he spoke, movements slow and tentative as if Max was a caged animal. The demeanour didn’t fit the John he knew.

“You could have sat him up first!” Max could hear the eyeroll in Staci’s voice and he grinned as John scowled. His mouth opened to retort as he turned the glare over to Pratt when Joseph interrupted him.

“Did you see the collapse?” Joseph lent forward with his palms under his chin. There was no getting away from that stare, he could even see Joseph in his peripheral vision but on the plus side there wasn’t a sickly green hue in sight.

“I saw the flesh fall from your body with an explosion and the world turn to fire.” John tensed next to him with an arm stuck about to wipe Max’s skin before he quickly let it fall to his side, cloth held in a deathly tight grip. “Where are we Staci?” If anyone could give him a straight answer it would be him.

“Veteran’s centre.” The gruff steel of Jacob squeezing into the small room shouldn’t have been funny, but Max couldn’t help but laugh. He looked ridiculous perched on a tiny stool; arms crossed with a tight expression like he didn’t want to be there and Max would have bet money that Jacob indeed didn’t want to be.

“The bliss broke him.” The emotion fuelled look Staci threw at John was ignored in favour of Joseph standing at the base of the bed. Max didn’t like the look that Joseph cast to him, not one bit. Max didn’t like being the centre of attention and here he was with the attention of three immensely powerful men who Max was about 90% sure ran a doomsday cult. 

“I tried to guide you through the bliss.” John moved quickly for Joseph to take his place. “You called out to me.” Joseph pulled Max’s face and lent his forehead against his gently.

“You said I set your hands on fire?” Max felt the skin of his chest tentatively, there was nothing. The skin wasn’t raised but until Max could see for himself, he couldn’t be sure.

“When you gripped my arm, it spread.” Max trailed off as it hit him how weird the situation currently was. John was watching him from the chair Joseph had been and he looked exceptionally pleased with himself. Jacob had his head tilted and his gaze kept flicking between him and Staci. Pratt was pale and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, but he calmly sat stroking Max’s arm like he knew something Max didn’t.

“What sin was it.” Joseph lowered his voice, and it was like they were the only two in the room, he pushed Max’s hair out of his tired eyes before brushing a thumb over Max’s cheeks. His soft gaze was inescapable, and Max felt himself drown in his blue orbs with a flare of heat that ran up his spine. The shiver he couldn’t control didn’t go unnoticed by John, who glared at Joseph. Couldn’t he see that Max was uncomfortable? That’s all he was, not enticed by sudden concern that softened Josephs features. Not at all…

“Wraith.” Max clenched his jaw shut and looked pleadingly over to John when he saw Joseph’s reaction. Joseph took a sharp breath and his pupils dilated before he closed them with a pleased hum. He had forgotten somehow that Joseph was completely insane, he had pushed in the eyes of a man after all and there was video evidence. Yet Max felt like he was among old friends. There must have been something wrong with him and there was something very odd with Joseph, having a reaction like that. He didn’t need to tell them anything. They were the least trustworthy people to be telling what happened in what felt like a nightmare or that’s what the residents of Hope County would have Max believe.

“What is the bliss?” Joseph pushed Max back down into the firm mattress when he went to sit up with a firm hand, he wouldn’t get to the door without being tackled by Jacob, so he stayed put. Even as Jacob grinned as the fight left Max’s shoulders, the gleam of a challenge never failed to rile him and somehow Jacob knew.

“It’s what we use to help guide some of the flock on the way, but it should have burned out of your system now.” Drugs then, none of it was real just a bad trip. What a relief. He could keep it up. Max would be calm then the second he was alone with Staci they would plan an escape. His leg throbbed where it was bandaged from the arrow, it must have been soaked in bliss.

“Relax Deputy as soon as you’ve had a good sleep and we’ve checked that lung of yours.” Jacob was ever keen in his observations and could tell Max was itching to run. “You can leave.” He didn’t believe a word of it not with how amused Jacob looked at the flicker of confusion that must have shown on Max’s features. 

“It’s rude to ignore messages.” John stared at Max; the pout did a good job of making him appear upset but there was a contained violence just under the surface. The irritation of being ignored that Max could have read from John with his eyes shut.

“Just as it’s rude to leave a relationship without even a goodbye.” All eyes flicked between them and John flushed under Max’s flat expression. Joseph didn’t look surprised, John had probably told him, but Jacob clearly didn’t know in as much detail. His icy blues burned into the side of John’s face in judgemental silence, but John couldn’t meet his eyes.

John didn’t have any response and it was expected but still Max felt a swirl of all those old emotions, he didn’t have enough energy for it. In an instant he felt the irritation fray at his nerves, he was exhausted with the situation.

“I’d like to talk alone with Staci.” It wasn’t a request; it was dumb to make demands but still he pushed his luck. Joseph searched Max’s face then he sighed with a slight nod and he spread his palms to Jacob and John. Motioning them to follow him and of course they had to, Jacob threw a doubtful glare his way but still he followed Joseph out. Max wondered if they would be listening on the other side of the thick metal door.

“How long have we been here?” There was a big chunk of blackness where Max had been taken by the bliss that made him dizzy to think about. 

“3 days.” Clearly Staci wasn’t under that long else Max would be alone. “Joseph kept you dosed up so you could see what God wanted to show you.” How did he sound so calm, like he believed everything Joseph said?

“And you stayed willingly?” Staci looked away for the first time and he faced the grey flaking paint of the walls, the tiny window above Max’s head let in little light. Was it on purpose? To make it harder to sense the time.

“Jacob wouldn’t let me leave anyway.” Pratt didn’t look any worse than before with what Max could see apart from the evident tiredness, his eyes were half closed in exhaustion. “There's talk of a small resistance and we’re both too important to go out there.” 

“I know you don’t understand.” His face stretched into an unnatural grin; eyes bright with emotion that Max couldn’t read. “The bliss makes you groggy, but you’ll see soon enough.” 

The door had a little window and Max could make out movement behind it, Jacob’s intense stare was ice even through the thick layers of glass. He walked in not a second later and led a hobbling Staci away to let Max ‘rest’. Staci’s ankle was wrapped up and Jacob took Staci’s full weight as he shuffled through the small doorway with a watchful eye on the shorter man besides him. 

He was tired but unconscious for 3 days? They were all insane, God didn’t curse people with visions of the future. He would leave Pratt behind if he had to, the stale air of the tightly compact room was of little comfort and Max couldn’t stay, not after Joseph had looked at like that. 

His legs felt like jelly when he moved them to rest on the cold wooden tiled floor. The first step had him nearly tumbling headfirst into the wall, but he managed to steady himself. Light shone from the hallway into his little room and Max wondered how they would try to stop him. But the door was locked. Somehow, he had missed the bolt sliding into place and was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love some feedback, for this chapter especially! :D


	9. A frog named Jerry

Max refused to relax at first, not that he could anyway. There was a camera in the corner of the room that flashed red periodically. Would they watch him sleep? It was possible. He paced around the room for a few minutes, walking was nice after 3 days of forced inactivity. It gave him time to think and with it came doubt. What happened to Staci? He seemed to already have a place; he was so comfortable around the Seeds. What did he mean when he said, ‘you'll see soon enough’?

The Window on the back wall was just big enough for Max to see some of the surroundings, the veterans centre Jacob had said. Max observed a courtyard which was bustling with activity. There were dozens of people with guns, a row of cages sat alongside the wall, they were empty. Why did Jacob need that many? They were small however and Max couldn’t imagine people would fit. So, animals? He watched the nameless faces walk around as much of the perimeter as could be seen until new people replaced them and Max’s knees were numb from the position he held.

The sit-ups were nice, Max enjoyed the burn in his calf muscles. To get around his weak shoulder he used one arm and it worked for a time. Up until sit-up 25 where his breathing went from laboured to gasping for breaths. Slumped on the floor he lay for a few minutes. Joseph had said the bliss should have been out of his system but it didn’t feel like it, he felt nauseous and dizzy, and there were hazy specks of green light that danced across his vision when his eye slid shut in a dazed blink.

“You’re an idiot.” Tattooed fingers waved in front of his face before a loud sigh made Max’s head throb. When had the door opened? He was half lifted and dragged to the bed; Max tried to scowl when his ankle knocked into the bedpost harshly, but the sound of a breathless laugh distracted him. 

“Typical.” John was quick to glare at him and Max hadn’t realised he had spoken, John looked less threatening than a lost puppy, he was out of breath and leaned heavily on the wall. A sharp frown was sent his way, when he noticed Max smirking at how unfit he appeared. 

“Don’t you dare move until someone comes to check on you.” John wore his emotions on a sleeve. It was a habit that he had never shifted. “No more exercise.” Max appreciated that John could be worried for him but still the want to punch him in the face was strong. To give him just a fraction of the pain that Max had suffered even with the life John had fought through with nails and bared teeth. The flash of silver caught Max’s eye; John’s rings glinted as he swept a palm through his hair. Then he was gone without another word, it left Max to begrudgingly sift through clashing emotions before he crashed and slept dreamlessly. 

“Up.” Max’s eyelids were forcefully opened, and a bright light shone through to what felt like the back of his skull. “Thought that would work come on.” Jacob stood before him with a shit eating grin, Max realised as he blinked slowly. The room was too bright. Max didn’t want to test his patience so he, with the speed of someone half asleep and probably still high stumbled out of bed and followed closely behind Jacob. 

There were people in white jumpers everywhere, the type that itched with the Eden’s Gate logo slapped on the front with no finesse. Max felt tiny under the gaze of so many guarded stares, it made sense they wouldn’t trust him. He took in every exit and window they passed and was engrossed in counting the amount of people with guns, there were many. He lightly bumped into Jacob, when the hulk of a man stopped in front of an imposing metal door. 

“In you go.” Jacob didn’t give Max the time to even consider backing up as he pulled him into the white room. Staci was there to his relief, which was short-lived. Staci waved with a wince once he heard the door click shut. His ankle was bright purple, and a small woman moved it around slightly before stepping back and turned to them with a tight-lipped smile. As if she weren’t allowed to be happy in their presence.

“Take a seat plea-” She cut herself off with the fastest look possible between Max and Jacob. “And take your shirt off.” She motioned towards a small table, which was thankfully covered by a white sheet. Jacob’s hard stare didn’t leave Max as he shrugged off the hoodie that hid his firm physique. The table was in the middle of the room and Max frowned into his lap as Jacob walked around him to inspect his injuries.

“Damn have you been busy huh?” Jacob whistled slowly and was obvious in his observation. His eyes tracked every inch of exposed skin and Max had to fight the urge to cover himself. The way Jacob ate up every inch of skin made him feel far to exposed. 

“Can you tell me everything?” The woman's face slowly dropped as Max went into detail about his back and previously collapsed lung. He almost felt sorry for her, but she did ask, it just so happened that Max was a remarkably busy man who was extremely unlucky. Whilst the woman stepped out of the room to get some ‘equipment’, Jacob leisurely strode to stand in front of the table Max was perched on.

“He was almost sloppy back then.” Jacob was referring to the tattoo of the Boeing stearman, Staci was listening intently, and he flushed when Max met his gaze. From embarrassment at being caught watching them or guilt from telling Jacob about him Max couldn’t tell.

“It was the first tattoo that he did to anyone other than himself.” With a small smile Max looked at his palms. He remembered how much John made him show it off. “It took him weeks to decide on a design, I alm-” The woman was back with what looked like a treadmill but the screen that was attached was far too fancy, there were a lot more wires than Max expected.

At first the strange device was completely ignored, and she had Max testing his shoulders' mobility and she listened to his chest. His dissolvable stitches were doing well and the new bruises that lined Max’s stomach would be gone within the week.

All whilst Staci, and Jacob who had moved to the other side of the room observed in silence. After she was satisfied and had written lots of notes down on a piece of paper. Max was hooked up, sticky pads to his chest to monitor his heartbeat or so Max supposed. 3 pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly and a layer of nervousness washed over him.

“You just want me to jog?” Jacob rolled his eyes and Max was proud at the neutral expression he kept.

“Yes, the speed will go up gradually as we need to test your lung capacity and heart under stress.” Why did they need a treadmill for that? It seemed a bit over the top. Max felt fine at first as his slow walk became a jog but as the speed got faster and sweat broke out along his skin, there came the tightening of his chest and thankfully when he started wheezing it was switched off. 

He was led back to the table and she gave him a water bottle before talking to Jacob in hushed whispers. After what felt like an age Jacob nodded and turned towards Max with an unreadable expression. Max was too busy trying to breathe as evenly as possible, he almost missed the surprisingly softly spoken words. 

“Come on.” Jacob left the room without checking to see if Max was behind him. With a small wave to Staci, Max left. There was still far too many guards walking around with every gun type imaginable for Max to attempt an escape. 

He was led to a room which had been converted to perform x-rays. Why would a veteran’s centre need a machine like that? Not that he was complaining as it certainly came in handy now. Jacob and the woman who Max hoped was a doctor, watched the screen from the other side and Max tried to guess what the room was used for before the obvious quick change it had undergone. There were empty shelves and abandoned boxes along the wall, a storage room perhaps? He was led back to the previous room by the ‘doctor’ and left there with Staci for the moment.

“How's the ankle?” Staci shrugged and frowned; it didn’t look good. Black and purple bruises painted his skin from the ankle joint all the way to wrap around his heel. 

“Fractured.” How had he walked on it before? Adrenaline perhaps. “It could have been a lot worse.” Max was doubtful and Staci laughed quietly at his raised eyebrows. His breathing had gotten a lot better, however.

“Have you heard about the others?” Staci deflated at the words, shoulders sagging, and Max wished he had kept his mouth shut. Curiosity for Max was something that couldn’t be ignored; it was like an itch you couldn’t help but scratch and he waited patiently for Staci to gather his thoughts. He didn’t get a chance to reply as Jacob with the ‘doctor’ close on his heels returned. 

“Now Max I need you to wear this oxygen mask for a while.” The ‘doctor’ slipped the mask on before he could ask why. “The oxygen should help your lungs absorb the air.” Was it bad? Would he have surgery again?

“It’s only a small pneumothorax.” Jacob chuckled as visibly relaxed. “Seems like you should be avoiding helicopter crashes Deputy.” Jacob thought he was so funny, as if Max could have avoided it but only a small collapse. The oxygen better work, Max didn’t trust any of them and he had enough scars already. Jacob left shortly after, he clearly thought Max wouldn’t run. That he wouldn’t want to leave Staci behind, and he was partially right, Max didn’t want to leave Staci not when he seemed on the edge already. 

He sat and took deep inhales of the oxygen like instructed, and it did make his chest feel looser but waiting around was boring. Unable to chat to Staci who was chilling on his phone on the other side of the room. The temptation was there but Max knew how stupid it was, with a sigh he unlocked the phone John had given him and to his surprise there were a few messages waiting for him. 

The most recent one made Max snort, was he OK? Did John not live in the same timeline as the rest of the world? He thought of the most sarcastic response but was hesitant to send it. No doubt John would reply, and Max didn’t know if he were up to the inevitable heartfelt conversation that would eventually follow, after a round of teasing. John was unpredictable in a lot of ways, but he always said what was bothering him. Instead Max asked the simple question of what he was up to.

As suspected John replied almost immediately, he was talking to Jacob about the x-ray results. Max never liked people talking about him when he wasn’t there and the little angry emoji was sure to make John realise, with unrivalled certainty how bored he was. Instead of responding with anything interesting, John replied with the rolling eyes emoji. They proceeded to have a spam war of emoji’s; Max had just stifled a chuckle from the prying eyes of Staci when a random number sent him a picture.

It was of a simple frog, perched in the middle of a lily pad. There was a message attached and Max couldn’t stop the laughter which could be barely heard around the mask. What awaited him was astoundingly weird.

“The new bliss is tainting my vision and sight, is that frog pink to you because if it isn’t Faith then we have taken a step off the path God has laid so clearly for us to follow.” So, the Father took bliss recreationally, no one could have seen that coming. 

“Jerry is disappointed in us.” Was that the frog's name? “He has judged the new batch to be unworthy.” It almost sounded like some important decisions were based on the interpretation of a frog's behaviour. Jacob was watching him from the doorway with a flat expression, with such a heavy build you would have thought he would be loud in his movements.

“John is in a meeting so stop spamming him.” The ‘maybe’ doctor was quick to scuttle over to Max and remove the mask, the sharp rust of Jacob’s irritation put her on edge.

“What's with the frog?” Jacob’s expression didn’t outwardly change but he tensed and strode further into the room.

“We don’t talk about the frog.” Jacob observed the message fondly and fought to bite back a smile, but the twitch of his face was plain to see. “Don’t reply to that message if you know what's good for you.” Max locked it when another beep drew his attention.

Jacob tried to snatch the phone before Max could see the message but he caught half a sentence before a snarling Jacob roughly brought the phone to his ear with a hard elbow to Max’s already bruised stomach and walked away with a hurried breath to the person on the other end. What an overreaction as if he weren’t injured enough already. The cleansing would be tomorrow? Max didn’t like the sound of that. There were a few words that sounded particularly dangerous from Joseph, like the reaping and now the cleansing. 

It took far too long before a disgruntled Jacob returned with his phone and John in tow. His hair was a mess like he had been pulling the short red strands and John glared ferociously until the phone left his possession back to Max.

“I’m sorry for snatching the phone from you earlier.” He looked as unbothered as physically possible and rolled his eyes. John was unaware situated behind Jacob with a smug expression at having the mountain man under his nails, no doubt. John enjoyed to an extensive degree, having control. It suited their past relationship as Max was the opposite, his relaxed personality complimented John’s nicely but it wouldn’t have been enough now, with how paranoid New York had made him and John seemed to be even more uptight. Max clenched his teeth in frustration with old habits trying to surface, back when John couldn’t stand to be in his own skin. Free of substances for too long they would-

“Is that your thing now.” The sharp exhale of John’s voice made him jump and Max didn’t notice when he had moved closer. “Ignoring me as punishment?” At the lack of response John sighed before he perched on the edge of the bed, much to Max’s irritation he couldn’t deny the man when he took up all his vision. His legs didn’t touch the ground and they swung in what must have been an unconscious movement, Max almost grinned at the reaction John would have if Max told him how cute he looked. 

“You know you can’t deny me anything I want.” John was almost manic as he leant closer, his breath was a stark contrast to the cool room as it washed over his face. “And you don’t want to anyway, even after all this time, I know you.” Did he? John hissed the words. A lot had happened, would they have fallen back into the same comfort as before? He couldn’t even entertain the thought, it may have been John before him, but he was the brother of a cult leader and extremely dangerous. The past volatile relationship had revealed that much and who knew how much more of John’s flaws had become ingrained into his ever-changing personality. He hadn’t become a lawyer with only a pretty face after all and even as the beautiful specks of grey sparkled in the backdrop of his baby blues, Max couldn’t let himself become captivated.

With a toothy grin, John gave Max a little space and looked over to his brother with feigned relaxation and contempt. “Pass me the rucksack.” Jacob threw Max’s bag into John’s extended arms and his throat bobbed with a tight swallow. They wouldn’t have. Surely, they wouldn’t go through his belongings. Max was mistaken and John bore into his soul with the old, warn, red bag clutched between slender tattooed fingers.

“Tomorrow you will confess.” John rummaged through his bag and Max desperately looked over to Staci who was watching intently. His face heated as Staci’s shocked gasp rang around the room and Max couldn’t meet any of the gazed currently fixed on him, instead he lay with his head pointed to the floor. John thrust the plastic bag forward and confirmed Max’s fears with an enthusiastic giggle.

“And I want to know everything you’ve been up to since I left, but drugs have no place in Eden’s Gate Max, and I’m disappointed in you truly for keeping such filth on your close belongings.” He didn’t seem disappointed, on the contrary he looked as if Christmas had come early. Max didn’t miss the painful looking grip John had on the cocaine or the way his hands shook lightly. He didn’t know why he brought it with him. The powder hadn’t tempted him for months and yet Max couldn’t leave it behind and now it was in the possession of someone who had less self-control than a child. If John used again, it would be his fault. 

He looked to Jacob whose expression was pinched in what appeared to be the same wavelength, with a tight nod his way Max was reassured that it wouldn’t happen. Jacob knew current John better and he was confident in Jacob’s ability to set him straight. “The cleansing will be painful, but it is for your own benefit you understand?” Max stayed quiet and John bristled in exasperation. He was like a peacock, in need of constant attention and it would only be a matter of time before Max had to engage with him.

“Be quiet all you want, darling but we both know who wins in the end.” The words were spoken like a knife and Jacob snorted at the scene they must have made with John practically in his lap. John rested his small palms on Max’s chest with a tight grip and his nostrils flared before he stood with a practised flourish, elegant with the way he held his firm form and a lopsided smirk that reminded Max of another time. The brothers left without another word and the ‘doctor’ instantly rushed over to put on the oxygen mask. He would stay overnight it would seem.

“You have to be good, I told him you would be, and he put my number in your phone.” Staci spoke with a forced calmness, but his eyes pleaded. His phone vibrated to reveal a text from Pratt that simply read ‘Jesus Christ’ and Max would have agreed but John’s ego was big enough to take it as a compliment. He would have found out somehow, he always did. Staci didn’t mention the drugs and Max was grateful. If he had spoken to Jacob enough perhaps he already knew. The thought wasn’t comforting but Max didn’t feel like quizzing Staci when he was already so unsettled.

A night in the cold sterile room it was, the door was locked after the ‘doctor’ left and the room was bathed in darkness. Did Staci snore? Not that Max was remotely tired anyway, having spent the day being tested. Didn’t they say he could leave after they checked his lungs?


	10. The cleansing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that chapter 10 is out the upload schedule will change slightly to one chapter posted every two weeks.
> 
> It fits my current workload better and I don't want to not upload for a month trying to rush writing.
> 
> There are a few chapters waiting to go up but not as many as I'd like.
> 
> I hope the change isn't too drastic and by all means let me know what you think of the change either on my tumblr (redangrypears) or in the comments below.

It felt like he’d been asleep for a mere moment when a loud whimper and the sound of something smacking the cold shiny tiles, had him leaping out of bed. The oxygen mask pulled taught across his face, the cord dug into his throat and Max froze at the scene In front of him. Pratt was on the floor, confused and breathing harshly between clenched teeth as if in pain. His ankle!

After delicately taking off the equipment strapped to his face, Max knelt next to Staci who was in so much pain he didn’t seem to realise someone was besides his shaking form. It must have been early in the morning, light streaked through the blinds and cast the room in low lighting.

“Staci, are you ok?” No response, he had to call someone. Max never did like going to John for help as the man took far too much pride in being needed but there was little choice.

The phone rang for a few seconds before it went silent. Max tried again; John would be awake. “Do you know what time it is?” Or not, his thick accent shone where it was usually repressed with a practised perfection and Max relished the drawl.

“Staci fell off the bed in his sleep, I can’t move him.” John’s breath hitched with what Max assumed was realisation with who he was talking to as his brain caught up to the conversation.

“Of course, you would call me instead of Jacob.” He practically purred the words, and it was conveniently left out that both knew he didn’t have Jacob’s number. He could have looked for Staci’s phone and perhaps, it was there. After a moment of awkward silence Max could hear John talking to someone or Jacob, he assumed. He had taken a keen interest in Staci and Max couldn’t help but worry for him.

“He’s on the way, but onto more important things.” John sounded predatory down the phone and Max could picture his mouth stretched into a wild grin. Why couldn’t they have a normal conversation? “How is your chest Max? You have quite a serious injury after all.” How did it feel? Certainly not as tight.

“It feels better.” John hummed and Max almost missed the next sentence as Jacob burst through the door with a heaving chest, and a frown plastered over his face. The glare that was thrown his way could have unsettled most men and Max wasn’t special by any means so he shrank back to the bed and let Jacob handle it; strong muscles worked quickly to lift Pratt back onto the bed with surprising care.

“That’s good, you’ll need all your strength for the cleansing.” John behaved like it was a normal conversation and he must have been unaware how jarring it were. Just how long had he been in Hope County? “Once you’ve accepted Eden’s Gate into your heart, I’ll tell you why I left.” He couldn’t just act like a normal person; John should have been an actor. Such wasted theatrics. Jacob was watching him patiently from the end of Staci’s bed, and Max flushed under his emotionless face which stared at him far too knowingly. “I have to go-”

“-Yes, Jacob’s probably waiting to take you up there now.” The second the phone was slipped into this pocket Jacob stood up and walked towards the door without so much of a word. The ‘doctor’ rushed to check on Pratt when they left, and the door slammed behind them with an echo down the quiet hallway.

“Now I want you on the best behaviour,” Jacob sighed as if Max was already being difficult. “Joseph doesn’t usually participate in cleansings.” So the Father himself would be there to witness whatever John thought was necessary. It should have reassured him and yet for some reason two nutters together didn’t.

“And you?” Jacob laughed and the dread that swirled around his stomach, crawled up his throat.

“Nope, John wouldn’t let me in even if I wanted to.” That wasn’t surprising as John had always been possessive. He probably didn’t want Joseph there either, but no one could deny the Father not even his brothers. Jacob led him up a set of stairs into a spacious room which was mostly empty apart from a chair, which was lonely in the centre of the room. There was also a bare table that had been shoved in the corner, a few candles burned in the corners. What was it with candles? It looked like something out of a horror film.

“It’s early but everyone’s up and I’m sure they will be here soon.” Jacob didn’t help the whole ominous vibe that perforated the room like smoke. “Sit down then, you’re making it look untidy.” The chair faced away from the door and Max hated it, but he sat. The chair was _almost_ comfortable. Max didn’t know why he went along with it.

“Hands behind the chair, Deputy.” Max almost jumped out of his skin and Jacob chuckled behind him like the creepy bastard he was, but it wasn’t a joke and tired of waiting Jacob forcefully held Max’s arms. The click of a pair of handcuffs sent a shiver down his spine, where did they even get those? Were they Hudson’s?

“Is that really necessary?” Jacob hummed somewhere in the room, to the right it sounded like. Max couldn’t see as he was too far back, it made the hair at the nape stand on end.

“Even if you wanted this and I know you don’t, intense pain often takes over.” He was right behind Max as he spoke, sounding far to amused with Max’s state of unease.

“You’re not making him uncomfortable are you Jacob?” The soft melody of Joseph’s voice was welcomed, and Max slumped into the chair even as cold metal dug into his wrists. Jacob’s lack of response was telling, along with his tense shoulders and Joseph sighed in Max’s peripheral vision.

The table was moved Infront of Max and Joseph set down a little bowl with what Max could only assume contained water. A bible followed, unsurprisingly it looked like Joseph’s personal one. With the spine warn with how much it had been opened and gentle fingers, which caressed the cover before he drew away completely to face Max.

“Whilst we wait for John, I would like you to think of all of your past sins.” Jacob was still lurking behind him somewhere, watching the scene unfold. Surely John wouldn’t be too long? Max couldn’t stand the tense silence or the stare of Joseph, who watched him openly and almost longingly. His thought’s turned to New York; he wasn’t proud of the man he became working there. The heartache of losing John so suddenly had left Max with the bitter taste of rejection for months. It made him wrathful and he treated people unfairly, Emily didn’t deserve to take the punishment for his greed.

“Out you go, Pratt’s awake.” The energetic excitement flowing through the room was instantly apparent, Jacob left with a snort and steady footfalls and John walked towards the table with the clinking of his heeled boots. A black suitcase was placed gently down on the table and Max almost gasped as he recognised the warn leather, which still held the tag he had put there. He felt his face curl involuntarily at the memory and as his gaze lifted, John watched him with the softest features Max had seen since entering the wretched valley.

The suitcase opened with a click that seemed to vibrate around the room and Max instantly recognised the device which buzzed in John’s steady palm, a tattoo machine. He set it down gently and turned to face Max, Joseph stood to his left and smiled in what he must have thought was reassuring but was anything but.

“Now Max, tell me.” John took a step closer so that he could hardly see Joseph. “what have you been up to hm?” His eyes lingered on Max’s face before they travelled the length of his body. “Why were you shot? I can see that you want to tell me, to be released from the sin that plagues you.” John hated being left out of anything; Max could tell it irritated the man before him, and he let the satisfied feeling wash over him with a hum. There was no point denying John what he wanted, he was at a disadvantage already and John was being kind for now.

So he told them, Max watched as John’s pupils ate the mesmerising colour of his iris when he spoke of Emily. Dying before him because of his greed, because of his lust for life and all its luxuries. John couldn’t hide his satisfaction of having no competition for Max’s affections, even when Max had been careful to be neutral around the spitfire of a man.

He stuttered when Joseph knelt before him and rubbed away the tears which Max had been unaware of, as he spoke of how his colleagues had betrayed him in fear of the sheriff. How the guilt had chipped away the longer he kept quiet about the despicable corruption he had witnessed. The suffering that had been allowed to continue and Max had been complicit, he had done nothing. He had witnessed with displeasure and hate as the sheriff benefited from substances that tore lives apart. That had almost taken John away from him and he only acted when a sum of money that was ridiculous and couldn’t be ignored, had dangled in front of his nose.

Max had even partaken in the drugs when he couldn’t find a reason to get out of bed, overworked and heartbroken as he had been. Max had let the weakness take hold, no one forced him. John scribed notes upon paper in a frenzy, overtaken with ideas, and Joseph looked deep in thought kneeling beneath Max as if he were going to prey.

He couldn’t stop the anxiety that ripped through his chest as he remembered the way John’s eyes had rolled into the back of his head. How his muscles contorted as he spasmed on the floor of the sitting room, white powder smeared across his face and a few lines still on the table. The hopelessness that he had felt when John couldn’t respond, a slur of words that couldn’t be understood from blue lips.

His breath had been so quick that he could hardly breathe, and Max felt the all-consuming fear and helplessness as if he were still there. In John’s old apartment in Atlanta, just back from a long shift and dead on his feet, only to find that he had been lied to. That John was still using and currently lying in a puddle of his own vomit which he had miraculously not choked on. Familiar hands cupped his face gently and Max slowly centred himself back into the silent room only to be greeted by the worried taunt expression John wore openly, his shoulders sagged in relief and his hands fell to his sides slowly. Jacob muttered something quietly to Joseph before he watched Max heave in ragged breaths with a look on his face that could have almost been pity. Jacob left again without so much as nod from John and Joseph went with him, a need for water being the reason. They were so in tune with each other that Max wondered if Jacob even needed to be called or if he just knew they were stressed.

John had left after that in the early hours of the morning, after Max had drove him to the hospital with clenched fists. Not a message or call just gone, he reluctantly went home after being reassured by a nurse that he could come back in the morning and he did, but John wasn’t waiting for him. Within the month the bills had all gone over to Max’s account, somehow done remotely by John and he couldn’t afford the lavish apartment. Without a second thought he had left the state.

“For what it’s worth.” John looked at his shoes with a frown. “I didn’t want to leave.” He met the glassy eyes of Max and couldn’t hold the contact.

“But you did.” Max’s voice was gravel like he had been shouting and as the muscles in his arms twitched, he realised that his wrists were raw from the cuffs with pain tingling out from the hot skin.

“I had to go with him.” John spoke tightly as if to hold back the cascade of emotions. “He was desperate, and he didn’t know where Jacob was, he had _nothing_.” John took a deep breath and watched the reflection of the room that shone off his shoes. “You deserved better.” In all the time Max had known him, John had never said anything like that. “I tried to stop the drugs but-” Pain flickered across his features. “I’ve become a much better person for you Max.” He spoke in earnest, eyes bright. Max didn’t speak, he was exhausted, and a heavy silence fell over them.

Joseph returned swiftly and for once Max was glad to see him, a glass of water was pressed against his lips and he drank deeply without thought. The water was cool with a taste he couldn’t quite place, floral but sweet. Max’s shoulders unlocked from the tense hold and he hissed as it tugged on the cuffs, but the pain was far away.

“I trust that you’re feeling more relaxed now deputy?” Joseph wasn’t asking. “It’s only a tiny amount of bliss, so you will be present.” The buzz of the tattoo pen made him flinch, but Joseph threaded a palm through his hair in a strangely intimate way to comfort him.

“It is clear that through your confession there are sins that need to be stripped from your soul.” John’s expression held so much promise, he shone with the need for Max. “Lust and greed, first they will be cast for everyone to see.” He moved closer and looked down to the steady rise of his chest, Max wondered if that were where the tattoos would be. “And when you are ready, they will be cut away and you will be _reborn_.” Joseph stood back and John kicked Max’s legs apart to stand between them. “Free of the burdens of your past.” He pulled Max’s head back harshly to expose his throat and John traced his fingertips over the flutter of Max’s pulse. “Here for greed.”

“Sorry about this.” John didn’t sound sorry and Max jumped as his shirt was torn down the middle. He sighed heavily but John ignored him in favour of the sight that snared his attention.

It was a very visible spot and Max supposed that was the point, John thankfully cleaned the area with a damp cloth that was sat in the bowl on the table. Max giggled as the pen marked his skin and John smiled even as he held him firmly still. The buzzing of the tattoo pen however made him twitch away, John held the machinery tightly in his right hand.

“You tattoo with the right then now.” The bliss made him lax and his filter was out of the door. Joseph raised an eyebrow at John, and he fidgeted under the scrutinising look.

“Brother we’ve had this conversation before, use the one you are most comfortable with.” John looked torn but he switched hands, it was clear instantly how much more at ease and natural it felt and with an elegant flourish he started to ink the first letter. It didn’t hurt but it stung, Joseph sang hymns from the bible that he tightly held, and Max drifted on the wave of bliss and feeling that inhabited the room. It took John longer than expected but it had to be perfect, he stepped away and pushed the peddle to stop the incessant buzzing of the machine, John waited patiently for Joseph to finish singing before he wiped away the excess ink that had started to pool in his clavicle and Max felt naked as they both watched him in awe.

“It’s perfect.” John beamed under the compliment and he spent a few moments considering the best place for the next tattoo. Max would have to wait to see the if the work were as good as Joseph made it appear. He didn’t doubt John, but he hadn’t seen it yet. Both men took from him with the intensity of a thousand. Joseph surprised Max the most, with John he expected the lust that widened his grin, but Joseph ate up the sight of so much exposed skin and clenched his jaw when John blocked the pretty picture Max made, with his muscles pulled taunt at the mercy of the handcuffs.

“Here.” Max shivered as John’s finger travelled down his chest to rest at right side of the V that had faded slightly in the last few months. Joseph hummed in agreement and retreated to once again flip through his bible.

John pushed open Max’s thighs and knelt between them with a knowing smirk when Max flushed. He cleaned the muscle and didn’t miss the way abdominal muscles clenched under the feather light texture of the cloth. The pen tickled his skin again, but Max could see the words being drawn into his skin. The lettering was simple but elegant and he had seen messier work.

The buzzing filled the silence of the room as John got to work, Max admired the way his eyelashes framed his cheeks, with such an angle his mind wondered and he swallowed as John lent an elbow on his thigh. Joseph began to sing another hymn and as much as he loathed to realise, it was catchy. Joseph stared at him the whole time he sang, eyes never straying from his face and Max almost squirmed, he must have twitched away as John’s eyes narrowed up at him.

“Joseph can you hold him still for me?” Without breaking rhythm, Joseph walked behind Max and braced his back with a thigh and wrapped an arm around the right side of his torso. His fingers couldn’t have been centimetres from where John worked, and he had to lean over Max’s shoulder slightly to hold the position. It was more intimate than Max was ready for and Joseph’s breath washed over his neck with every sung word. Thankfully, John didn’t take long, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Joseph was eager to see the finished result. John winked from the floor before standing, he sent one last lustful gaze over Max’s chest before turning to Joseph with the face of full professionalism.

“Brilliant work John.” The Father smiled fondly at his little brother. “See you in a minute Max.” Joseph left the room and Max to the victorious smirk that was plastered on John’s face.

He walked around Max slowly coming to stand directly behind him. “If you want to go now you can.” That wasn’t what Max expected and he was quick to stretch the tense muscles of his arms as the handcuffs fell to the floor with a loud clatter. “But you must talk to Joseph first and when you go out there.” John trailed a hand down his unmarked shoulder. “And find only ruin and death, snakes that will cast you aside.” He planted a small kiss under the tattoo on his throat. “I will be waiting.”

John rolled his shoulders as he stiffly picked up the handcuffs with a raised eyebrow as Max leapt away, to put some space between them. “But for now, to Joseph.” The word was bitten out and Max smirked openly at John’s jealously.


	11. Ramification

He was ‘escorted’ down a flight of stairs and towards a door which sat at the end of a lonesome corridor. It was deathly quiet, Max tried not to concentrate on the sound of his heavy footfalls less he trip, it had happened before and he couldn’t stand the teasing that John would absolutely demonstrate. The silence was almost peaceful. Although it became apparent very quickly that they were completely alone, and Max went to step away, but John was quick to latch onto his shoulders and pulled him close with a glare that he couldn’t have taken seriously even if he tried.

Just before they reached the door, John pushed Max into the adjacent wall and observed as if searching for something on Max’s features. They stood in silence and John sighed with a small frown, fidgeting slightly. Max froze as the fist that had pushed him to the wall, and was still buried into his wrecked t-shirt, clenched tightly. It was almost as if John wished to pull him close. His fingertips brushed Max’s chest through a hole in the fabric and he couldn’t catch the shiver that John ate with doe eyes and a slowly forming smirk.

He purposefully licked his lips without breaking the intense eye contact and the second Max peeked down John was on him like a hurricane, plush lips, and ragged breaths against Max’s. He was frozen in shock. Eyes wide even as teeth bit harshly into his upper lip. John pulled him close and growled at the lack of reaction. Max could feel Johns heartbeat against his chest, and it was racing.

He wasn’t stupid however and realised what the hell John was doing, they couldn’t just fall back into this. Max cupped his face and tried to ignore how John rubbed against it like a cat, John had to look up to meet Max gaze and he felt his resolve tremble as longing eyes met his.

John’s smirk was still in place however, he knew exactly what he was doing, Max twisted a palm through the preciously styled hair with a wince at how all that product felt against his skin. Then pulled until John had to step back. But not before he bit John’s bottom lip and felt the skin split with a deep groan, one that he would deny if asked and John felt more than heard as it vibrated against his lips.

John tripped backwards with a frustrated squeak and Max caught him without a thought. The smirk that was returned instantaneously was soon wiped of John’s face. When he shoved John’s permissive form hard enough that the sound of his back smacking into the wall made Max flinch. John glowered with blood oozing out of his split lip. His hair wild and barely spat out. “When you need me, give me a call.” Before he opened the door with his foot and forcefully pushed Max inside, the door slamming made his ears ring.

Onwards the room was tiny with a layer of dust that covered the room and had already somehow settled in the back of his throat. Max’s eyes stung as the dry air hit him and with a yelp, he stumbled over Joseph the instant he took a step forward, unaware of the man on the floor before him. Joseph said nothing, he just watched in silence as Max took in the room. A bed was pressed against a wall with no furniture other than a little cabinet. Which had but a lone candle that had nearly simmered out. It must have been Joseph’s personal space and the small size was a surprise to Max, he would have thought that a cult leader would have the grandest living arrangements.

The man in question was knelt on the hard floor, it couldn’t have been comfortable. His hands were clasped in prayer. “I hoped.” He trailed off and frowned slightly, Joseph was lost for words and Max couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the implications. “It does not matter, for soon you will be back out there.” There was a sneer to the firmly spoken words. “With the sinners who will tell you wild things about me, wild things about _us_.” Joseph stuck his arm out so rapidly that Max scrambled to step back, only for his back to be pressed into the door with Joseph looming over him. He clenched his wrist in an unbreakable grip and Max hissed when short nails bit into his raw skin. “But you know they are wrong, and you will take care of it.” He spoke in earnest.

Such conviction wasted on insanity; Max felt sickened by Joseph’s open expression as it turned to smouldering curiosity. With eyes that roamed his face to come to a standstill when they reached his lips, which must have been swollen. He needed to get out of the building that instant, Joseph’s strong gaze had him frozen against the door like a deer stuck in headlights and as Max’s breaths turned into anxiety filled gasps, Joseph sighed softly and took a step back.

“I have a car prepared if you wish to leave?” The Fathers shoulders dropped slightly with Max’s nod and he didn’t feel bad. Joseph showed him the vehicle that sat waiting at the gate and he shoved the keys into Max’s outstretched hand with a firm grip along with a t-shirt and Max reddened as he remembered that the clothing he currently wore hung as if he had wrestled with a bear. “I’ll see you soon Max, the sheriff is in the Henbane perhaps you should go there?” Why would they just let him go? It made no sense.

He didn’t feel bad at all, not even when the Father waved limply from the gates as if watching Max go drained his energy. John wasn’t there to see him off, neither was Jacob but a message awaited him. He laughed until it hit him all at once, what the fuck was he doing? John was just as confused as Max, not expecting any reaction to the little struggle that John had forced upon them. It was tiring being around so many unstable people and Max felt decidedly better the more space that was put between him and the Veterans centre.

There was a radio in the provided truck and voices fluttered through the receiver. Max recognised a few and he couldn’t help but grin when he heard the familiar laugh of Mary May as he drove on the outskirts to Hope Valley, he knew where to go first.

A painful sight it was when he pulled into what had quickly become home. The outside was completely ransacked, where there was once a front door now bore nothing. Scratch marks marinated the frame and Max could barely bring himself to step pass the threshold. The silence of the house was thick, and Max felt the hairs on his arms prickle the further he walked. The fridge was wide open and empty, barely a week had passed, and someone thought it fair to damage his property. With clenched teeth Max made the ascent up the stairs which had been covered in paint.

His bedroom was the worst and Max swallowed the lump in his throat at the word crudely painted on his walls, ‘Traitor’. Is that what the residents thought of him? That he had just joined the cult at the drop of a hat? They didn’t know him, and Max had to keep reminding himself to supress the boiling anger as he spotted a framed photo of his father smashed on the ground. Thankfully, the photo was still intact, and he folded it and gently placed the old photo into the warn leather wallet. His clothes had been left alone however and he stuffed some into a rucksack along with the gifted clothing that he could finally swap with his own, for once Max was relieved that most of his belongings were still in New York.

The rest of the house didn’t matter, and Max didn’t feel safe staying there, would the residents be hostile to him? It was hard to imagine the warm face of Mary May or kind pudge of Nick, being anything other than friendly. He didn’t want to stay in Holland Valley, not when the sheriff might be at the Henbane, Max was just about done with Hope County.

The roads were void of any traffic, not one car did he see on the way to the Henbane and it was unnerving yet also an immense relief. No crazy cultists or overly suspicious civilians, it was too quiet for Max’s racing mind. Luckily, the radio towers appeared unaffected and he hummed along to a country song until the catchy chorus made his eyes roll.

He wasn’t that keen on country music at the best of times but with ‘Oh John’ swimming around his head, Max found himself begrudgingly enjoying the bouncy tune. The lyrics though had him smirking, whoever wrote the song clearly didn’t know John that well. He wasn’t brave in the slightest and Max scoffed at the elated hum of the choir. Max was on the outskirts of the Henbane when a frantic voice crackled through the radio.

“We need medical assistance, anyone in the area who knows what they’re doing.” Max recognised that voice instantly. “Come to the jail.” The sheriff was panicked, and it was a regret that he was so far away, it would take half an hour if he drove safely and with the amount of recent accidents, he didn’t feel like taking the risk. The cult radio station was _nearly_ enough to stop his brain from conjuring up the worst-case scenario and the religious country music accompanied some truly worryingly intrusive thoughts.

A few wrecked cars lay at the side of the road as he got closer to the prison, the damage done to the vehicles were immense. The type of damage only explosives could uphold, and Max didn’t know which was worse, Eden’s gate or the civilians with that kind of power. Neither could be trusted with explosives and Max tightened the hold on the steering wheel as the wonder of what happened to the people in the vehicles crossed his mind. There were no scorched bodies to be seen and Max felt guilty when he felt nothing but relief.

There were debris haphazardly left in the road all around the jail, more than Max expected and he had to abandon the shiny, untarnished vehicle further away than comfortably safe. He couldn’t see anyone at the top of the tightly shut gate but there was a metal door at the side which was thankfully unlocked. He pushed it open. The screech of the rusted hinges made his teeth throb. One step forward and Max froze at the sound of a gun being cocked at the back of his head. The cold metal was pushed into his scalp forcefully until Max took another step forward.

“Who are you?” The voice, abrasive and clearly belonging to a man. It set his nerves on edge. Max didn’t recognise the accent, not that he’d had a chance to meet many people.

“I’m one of the deputies.” His voice didn’t waver but sweat had started to bead on his forehead. They had reached a yard of sorts which was deserted, a barbed fence separated the main walkway from the rest of the space. The man stopped the insistent pressure of the barrel that had forced him forward and chuckled when Max’s spine went ridged at his following words.

“Are you now, but that tattoo.” The man paused. “Was it from before or after you enrolled on the force?” Max had neglected to cover the fresh sin which still stung on his throat. It was obviously John’s work with a lot of followers branded similarly, but Max had yet to see one quite as visible. The man snorted as Max searched for a reply, he was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when the force of the gun returned, and he had no choice but move to the stranger’s whim. The cool of the metal fence was nice with the slowly building heat and his pockets were turned out before his bag was dragged roughly from his shoulders and Max heard it lightly hit the ground somewhere behind him. His groan of pain at the tug which was felt in his shoulder was ignored in favour of the crackle of a radio.

“Sheriff we need you outside, asap.” The stranger paused for a moment and the sound of many voices could just be heard through the radio. “There’s someone you need to check.” Max couldn’t help as his stiff posture relaxed slightly, hopefully the sheriff would set it straight. It took a few minutes before the soft creak of a door could be heard; Max wanted to turn instantly but the gun was still pushed into the back of his neck. It took a few moments of who Max hoped was the sheriff and the stranger, or as Max had now dubbed him. Pain in the arse 1, before he was asked to turn around slowly.

The kind face of Earl lit up as his gaze fell on Max’s tired grin, and he sighed heavily in relief. “Max, thank God it’s you.” The sheriff turned to the flustered man who Max could finally see was wearing a cap pulled low to cover his face, with brown hair that curled tightly around the edge of the faded green fabric. “This is one of my deputies Shaun!” He didn’t shout but the tone left no argument that he was disappointed, the gun fell back to Shaun’s side and he took a step back at the strong glare when he didn’t respond.

“Come on inside then, do you have any medical training?” The sheriff escorted him into the prison, through the many people who were standing around. The cells were mostly empty with a few that had been repurposed into sleeping quarters. It was cramped and the thought of staying there set Max’s nerves aflame. 

They went right through the building to a room that was distinctly clinical, a woman lay sideways on a table. Her shirt had been torn and Max froze at the sight of blood, a lot of blood. “She was shot but we don’t think it nicked anything important.” She was lucky then because Max could stitch open wounds, but he was no surgeon. It was probably safer to leave the bullet until they found her a real doctor, with the lack of sterile equipment Max wasn’t confident to start digging around to find the bullet. It took a while before anyone located the first aid kit, but it had what was needed thankfully.

The sheriff observed as Max cleaned the wound and began stitching. He was almost envious, the entry point for Max’s injury had been much bigger and torn his skin in such a way that he would have an ugly scar. “Where’s Staci?” Earl spoke quietly so the woman before them couldn’t hear over her own ragged breaths of pain. They had no anaesthetic, but she stayed perfectly still for Max as he worked.

“He didn’t want to leave.” Max had neglected to tell Staci exactly when he was leaving but he had made his choice painfully clear. The sheriff nodded stiffly and to Max’s relief didn’t probe further. The woman’s wound was deep but tiny in comparison to his and Max guessed the weapon used was a pistol but without looking at the bullet it was impossible to be sure. “Have you seen Hudson or the marshal?” Not that Max cared if the marshal had made it, but he couldn’t just after Hudson.

“Not Hudson but Burke is around the jail.” So, he had made it after all, just the thought of the man left a bad taste in his mouth. “What about Danny?” The sheriff paced around the small room and Max had to look away or it would have made him dizzy. He was nearly done stitching the woman and she would need ample time for recovery and whatever antibiotics they could get their hands on.

“John took him.” Max waited for the cascade of questions however it seemed that Earl was tired of depressing news. His back cracked loudly when he retreated from the woman’s trembling form and it took a bit effort not to wince at his tired joints.

“Well luckily I still have one deputy.” The sheriff led him to a little room which was at the start of a quiet corridor, there wasn’t a bed but the small sofa that was stuck in the corner would do. “It’s not my business but I think you should know people have been talking.” People found anything to talk about in such a tight community and Max could only guess what could have possibly spiked their interest. “Some folks think you used to be involved with John Seed.” Had John told people? Would he? Max was interrupted just as he opened his mouth. “Like I said it isn’t my business, but I thought you should know.” Earl gaze was firmly set on the fresh tattoo before he left without another word. Max wouldn’t be surprised if John had told people and now he was alone, the temptation to ask overcame any other thought.

“Did you tell people about us? because they know.” Max waited 5 minutes, then 10 more only for John to ignore the message. He couldn’t sit in a little room all evening, not after being in that white room at the veterans centre for days. The idea alone was enough for anxiety for swoop through his system, to then settle in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the start of this one was appreciated. ;)
> 
> See you all in another two weeks hope the wait wasn't to long!
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr :D @redangrypears if you'd like.


	12. Emergent

There were many more people in the prison then Max first thought, dozens of people mingled in the tiny corridors with loud conversations that stopped as he passed. Curiously, the majority seemed to have a pin proudly displayed that had some species of big cat in bright yellow. Admittedly Max had spent little time in the Henbane so he couldn’t tell if the people that lived there usually wore one or if it were new since the cult stepped up.

He didn’t even know what had happened in the last week, that slid away whilst been ‘hidden’ away up the mountains and people clearly thought something similar with the amount suspicious glances that were sent his way. None met the questioning gaze he held. It seemed as if the tattoo was reason enough to be unapproachable, one look at that and people turned away from Max completely.

The Marshall could just be heard, and Max felt his head start to throb as the voices grew louder. He stopped outside of the door and tried to calm the whirlwind of thoughts before walking through. The argument paused as the many voices were left behind with the click of the door.

“What are you doing here?!” Burke was up in his face instantaneously, body tense and his jaw clenched so tightly that the sound of grinding teeth cut through the sudden sharp silence. Until his eyes flickered to the bold tattoo itching at Max’s throat. He laughed. In his face. Then left the room just as Max was about to retort, but not before a purposeful glare was thrown pointedly at the sheriff, who looked ready to throttle him. Had Burke finally lost it? Was the helicopter crash the final push? 

“People are scared deputy.” Burke didn’t seem scared and the sheriff ignored Max’s slow eyeroll. “Even the ‘mighty’ Marshall is worried.” The coiled adrenaline drained from Earl’s shoulders and he looked 10 years older. “Burke doesn’t trust you and I understand why, but I’m not so quick to throw away my own.” With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes the sheriff left Max to his thoughts, which were promptly forgotten as his phone bleeped loudly from the deep pocket of the jacket that clung to his shoulders.

“Wouldn’t you like to know; I wish I could see the sinners faces as they realise who you belong to.” He hadn’t then, John was quick to gloat. Max wouldn’t think about the rest of that message. He couldn’t just throw everything away for someone that could walk away without even a text. Not that a text would have been enough but it would been something, at first Max thought he had died and the sorrow quickly became anger when the nurse told him that someone had picked him up in the early hours of the morning.

The default ringtone was too loud, and Max fumbled to mute the damn thing before everyone in the immediate facility asked who could get signal. John left him a voicemail and Max thankfully made all the right turns to the room Earl had set him up in. A room which now had the Marshall and a woman looking through his rucksack.

“Put that down and get out, NOW!” Burke smirked at Max’s clear irritation and the woman besides him snorted but didn’t stop looking through the clothing that had once been in his bag and now lay scattered on the sofa.

“Come on Tracy we’ve seen enough.” She turned to face Max and he was taken back by the venom a stranger could muster for another.

“You know.” She walked behind him as she spoke, with steady footfalls and a t-shirt barely clutched at her fingertips. “I always wondered if John had personalised labels so thank you for answering that question.” Tracy threw the shirt at him before leaving the room with the shake of her head and Max stood there for a moment trying to work out what the hell that was about before realisation dawned on him. The t-shirt Joseph had kindly gifted was staring at him and as Tracy had said there was John’s full name, embroidered onto the label and collar in what felt like satin, it was a deep blue. Max could imagine it would contrast with John’s pale skin and eyes beautifully. John didn’t own many t-shirts and Max doubted he would willingly give it to him unless-

-Another message forcefully shook him from imagining what strange games John was playing. Max could only wonder what Burke would tell people around him or Tracy of what they had witnessed, angry people who hated the Seeds and who he had to sleep in close proximity. The door was locked and then checked before Max sighed and cleaned up the mess so he could sit and find out just what John wanted now. But the t-shirt burned in his palms and the soft material was so typical for John, always needing the finer things in life. Max asked him once why he was obsessed with soft clothes and the reply that John stuttered through at the time made Max grin, but the thought of it now had him smiling sadly.

_“_ Y-you _know_ that I like well-made things! _”_ He had been as guarded as usual, but Max knew, it was obvious in the way he fidgeted. Face red and hands clasped in the soft wool of a grey cardigan that swamped him and would have cost a lot more than Max could ever afford. The way he had turned almost completely away, unable to hide the vulnerable expression that Max could read in a heartbeat.

It was something he didn’t have enough growing up, the comfort of a soft blanket as a child had never left him, as much as John liked to insist he was fine and that the past had taught him how to be a better person, a stronger person, the scars ran deep and Max felt the inevitable draw and longing to make sure he was alright.

Damn him. The skin of his abdomen burned and for a moment Max was terrified, the image of a fire filled meadow at the forefront before he remembered and glared at the bold black lettering. John wasn’t the same and neither was Max, memories of the past would only get him into trouble. With that thought being repeated as if it would make him believe it, he opened the voicemail.

Only to be surprised at the little giggle down the line. “I bet you like it, having people whisper about that mark on your neck, that I put there.” John spoke with a slight slur. Had he been drinking? “You be careful though sweetheart, wouldn’t want to have to kill them all because they hurt your feelings.” The voicemail came to an end. John truly was something else. Max didn’t know if he drank regularly in the time they were apart but before it took far too much alcohol for John to be at the same level of ease as he’d just experienced.

Max replied simply. “Enjoy the hangover tomorrow, remember to have some water.” If John were less hungover, he might be nicer to Danny and Hudson, assuming he had them. Max didn’t care that John was drunk without him there to check on him, couldn’t possibly be that. The anxiety he felt was just because it had been a stressful day.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, his mind was riddled with intrusive thoughts. Some he didn’t want to analyse, like John getting himself into trouble or the Marshall killing him in his sleep. A shiver crept down his spine and for the fourth time since lying down onto the sofa, Max checked the lock on the door. Like all the other times it was secure. Only when his eyes couldn’t stay open any longer, did sleep take him.

It didn’t feel like the last time he took the bliss but as the green hazy sky shined above him, Max couldn’t help but feel like it was the same. He hadn’t taken any bliss though or been drugged so what was this? An actual nightmare perhaps? There was nothing else. Less Max open his mind to the possibility of the supernatural and the potential to be chosen by God, but that was ridiculous. Max wasn’t sure how much Joseph had put in the drink that he had blindly drank earlier, so perhaps he was sensitive to its effects.

The Grass was cold to the touch unlike before and Max could see his breath Infront of his face. With a frown he rubbed his hands together before taking in his surroundings. It almost looked the same, but he was in a slightly different place, the lake was just to his left and the hill was far behind him. The last time he went in the water it had woken him up and with the cold wind that blew the soft curls off his forehead, it was a good direction as any.

Without the steady hand of Joseph, he felt like a child taking their first tentative steps. The heat from the water wafted through the air and made Max relax slightly. Everywhere else felt like a cold autumn morning but the lake, something about it drew he in. The heat started at his toes and slowly climbed his body the closer to the clear water he became. Instead of burning insufferable heat like before, it was like a blanket slowly encasing him in a comforting warmth. Everything faded away to nothing once the gleam of the rippling water caught his eye and as he took the first step into the gentle caressing waves, a clarity came over him. Max’s reflection greeted him as he usually appeared. No wraith. No fire. It temped him further and he waded forward until the water lapped at his waist.

There was a rustle in the trees on the opposite side of the lake and Max sucked in a breath, but nothing came bounding out to kill him. Maybe it was the wind. Little balls of light floated past him in the water and of course he waded deeper. The current pushed at his back, but he held firm, Max didn’t even consider how a lake could have a current. Especially one that seemed so tranquil.

There was a figure behind him under the surface of the water, leaning over his shoulder. The face was unrecognisable, and Max whipped around but no one was there. Fear cascaded through him. It felt so real. The figure was gone when he looked back. He didn’t feel safe, it was a strange feeling. Like eyes were watching the ascent back to the grass.

He walked until a breath ghosted over his shoulder and Max stiffened as a familiar chuckle was right in his ear but when he looked, once again there was only him. Then he dared a look down into the water and the Marshall was right behind him with a frightening grin. They watched each other for a while and Max observed as the Marshall started to tremble. At first it was barely noticeable with the clothes hiding it well but as Burke realised Max was looking at the right place, he pulled the bullet proof vest down slightly and Max gasped.

Materialising onto the Marshall’s chest were words, the same words which had shocked Max to find on himself. Wraith was scratched onto the Marshall’s chest as if cut with a shard of glass and when he looked to slowly meet Burks gaze, he almost fell backwards. But a crushing weight held fast, and he couldn’t move an inch, as what appeared to be lava dripped down the Marshalls face only to sizzle past the surface of the water. Then onwards to fly in front of Max’s ogling face. Right on past as if he weren’t there and up towards the calm sky.

It was if he were upside down or the gravity had been flipped. More started to flow from his nose, eyes, ears, and mouth. With each drop leaving a scorching trail of damage down his face until it broke through the surface of the water and once again up into the sky, only just missing Max on the descent upwards. 

It was mesmerising, and Max couldn’t tear his eyes away from the Marshalls slowly dissolving face, until ash landed on his cheek. The sky was a beautiful wash of red and orange and the clouds blazed a trail of fire across the red haze beyond him. Birds started plummeting into the water. They were Dead long before the surface of the water broke around the tiny bodies, Max thought they were crows. The Marshall was gone once he dared to glimpse down, and a weight was lifted from his chest. Nothing would hold him back from leaving, the hill was in sight and Max had an inkling the view might be different this time.

He was soaked and the cold wind chilled him to the bone. With chattering teeth, he climbed the hill. What awaited at the top pushed the breath out of his abruptly constricted lungs and Max trembled at the utter disarray, which somehow hadn’t spread to the sanctuary behind him. With wary steps, Max walked until the soft grass was gone and only tough broken soil remained.

Unbeknownst to him, eyes tracked his slow descent with light footfalls that followed from a distance. The curiosity of what lay ahead too much to stay on the side lines, it would be easier not to be spotted but Max’s interpretation of the smouldering landscape was too important. The confusion that would come if he were found could effortlessly be explained away, especially with the fragility of the mind. A mind that right now was whirling with countless disconcerted thoughts, that it would have been simple. A few choice words and Max would agree in a heartbeat. Joseph couldn’t stop the grin and his eyes gleamed, oh how the beloved deputy would listen to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again :D
> 
> Any guesses on where you think the story is going?
> 
> It would be interesting to read some of your thoughts.
> 
> As always come and hmu on tumblr if you like on @redangrypears.


	13. Futility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload! 
> 
> It's been a bit hectic recently and family circumstances have made it difficult to find the time and motivation to write.
> 
> I shall try to have another upload ready for two weeks time so see you then. :)

The crunch of soil as he walked helped against the panic that tried to consume him. All signs of life were gone, as if vegetation couldn’t grow there in the first place. A rock sharply cut into the sole of his shoe and it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Not with how his feet had been dragging as he walked, and yet a yell cut through the thick silence. With a lone figure that stumbled down the steep hillside, it made his ears burn. Whether in embarrassment or pain, he wasn’t sure. As his knees hit the ground the air seemed to shift and slow down and it felt like he was drunk, light-headedness washed over him.

Far into the distance the ground shook and slowly started to crumble away, as if the world were hollow. Max walked right to the edge and had to take a step back as the ground beneath him trembled. The earth was only a few metres thick and beyond the edge, razor sharp rocks awaited with what looked like a little garden at the very bottom of the deep chasm. A river flowed through, but it was so far down that it looked like a tiny blue line.

Wind whipped around him and Max felt the urge to take the small step forward. It was like an itch. He hesitated. It wouldn’t really hurt as he was dreaming after all, would he feel any pain? He certainly wouldn’t die. A palm landed on his shoulders to rest gently where Max knew his injury lay and warm spread from the almost comforting spindly fingers. He tensed but didn’t turn around in time. Not before he was forced forward and with his shoes still wet his footing slipped, Max instinctively clung on to the figure behind him. Who plummeted after him and was to his frustration still out of sight.

He had been wrong. Pain seared through his side, which had collided with the jagged rocks just under where they initially plunged. The river grew bigger as they fell, the speed at which they descended would have been fatal but even as the pressure forced the air out of his lungs. Max remembered that it wasn’t real. After what felt like an age the plunge was suddenly over and the laws of gravity remined intact. He hit the ground hard and the sickening sound of breaking bones would have made him squirm if he had heard them.

For a significant time, Max slept as if it were a normal night, still and relaxed on the sofa which was inadequate to keep him warm. Sweat stuck the curls to his forehead, like it would a fever and he groaned as harsh hands pulled him upright. Only for him to fall back against the mismatched fabric, still in the depts of slumber. 

His eyes opened momentarily only to water as the searing pain from his firmly clutched bloody side made a sharp resurgence. Joseph walked up to him and seemed completely at ease with the otherworldly surroundings. There was a pink hue to the slight fog, which clung to Max’s skin and everything it encountered. The river besides them seethed, with water that flowed quickly over smooth rocks. Max could feel the spray on his face as the water was flung down a little waterfall and the sweet spice of an unknown fruit perforated the atmosphere.

Joseph stood before him and even as his vision blurred under unshed tears of pain, there was no mistaking the manic smirk that stretched the Fathers face, nor the softness to the caress when Joseph pressed his forehead against Max’s gently and cupped his face. The other hand shifted down to rest over Max’s knuckle white fingers and just as the pain started to dampen, Joseph pushed his palm with such strength that Max had no alternative but to scream in agony in his firm hold. Joseph didn’t seem to notice that blood had stained the beaded rosary that he always had clutched between bony fingers, more slid down his palm only to drip off his wrist.

“The pain you feel Max is _right_.” The words were faint, so much so that his ears strained to hear over the sound of his own pounding heart. “Out there you are safe. Righteous in your task to help us, to help John.” The last part was muttered irritably. Joseph supported his full weight as if it were nothing when Max’s feet scraped across the silky flowers that saturated the soil. “You pulled me in here.” The scenery over Josephs shoulder tipped to the left, then right and Max’s stomach churned as a wave of dizziness washed over him but Joseph stayed rigidly in place. “I could hear you calling me. I was asleep already. But I couldn’t resist, not when God has chosen _you_ to save **us**.” He trailed to a stop as Max’s eyes finally closed, grin stuck in place as the pull which had sought him there started to dwindle when Max’s body went completely lax in his hold. He felt light in Josephs arms and the Father was momentary worried that Max hadn’t been looking after himself, but he was quick to shush the anxious whirring of his brain. God would protect him after all.

“Rest easy Max for our path is clear, just as Gods open palm is spread wide for us to take.”

A strong grip tugged and pushed his shoulder harshly and Max was ripped from the walking nightmare, with the ache of his shoulder that had his arm nearly cramping due to how stiffly it had been held. The sheriff leant over him with wide eyes and a deep-set frown. As Max hissed in pain, he seemed to realise where his fingers dug and with a murmured curse the sheriff stood back. He let go of Max completely.

“You were screaming bloody murder Max, woke up half the block. It’s really freaked some folk out.” He said nothing, eyes half lidded with sleep. How could he explain what had transpired? “I came earlier but couldn’t wake you.” That was embarrassing. Had he been talking whilst asleep? He _hoped_ not.

“The door was locked?” The sheriff looked away and fidgeted under Max’s slow gaze, his voice cracked and with a grimace he uncapped a water bottle and drank half it with one mouthful. Still waiting on the sheriffs reply, the door was wide open.

“Yeah, I have a key. Do you want to talk about it?” Max honestly didn’t want to, but the sheriff might provide some insight and he didn’t think the sheriff would honestly take no for an answer.

“It was a dream, I think.” That made Earl freeze, but he was patient and said nothing as Max thought over the next words carefully. “Joseph pushed me and we both fell off the edge of a crumbling world, he told me that God sent me to save them.” He drew to a halt, uncomfortable with the frown that Earl had.

“What do you make of it all then Max?”

“I honestly thought it was a dream, like the last one. But Joseph knew what happened before. I saw the Marshall this time.”

“Before?” The sheriff paced before him. “But it’s just a dream Max.” He wasn’t making much sense, but it was hard to describe, especially with the phantom pain he could still feel.

“That’s not what Joseph thought when they took me before.” Max looked away, unable to meet the caring face of Earl only to almost jump as he noticed Burke who was resting against the door frame. A sneer adorned his face as he looked over to Max, arms firmly crossed in front of him.

“He needs to go.” Burke spoke in such a sharp tone that Max nearly flinched. The sheriff sighed deeply, and it became obvious that instant why the sheriff was so tired. Dealing with the Marshall certainly took up far too much energy. With a groan at his stiff joints, Max stood to his full height and glowered at Burke.

“And why is that?” Max was done with his shit already, the way the Marshall grinned at him was infuriating.

“Can’t have cult members walking freely around.” It was so unnecessary; he was asking for a punch in the face.

“I hope you aren’t talking about me.” He clearly was and Max was tempted to show him just what he thought about that, how dare he imply such a thing. The Marshall clearly didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

“We wouldn’t want to bring on the wraith of Joseph for hurting his whore.” The words were forced through gritted teeth and Max saw red. He was halfway across the glorified storage closet and only realised what he was doing once Earl threw an arm around his chest, forcing his arms down which had been aimed at Burkes throat.

“ENOUGH.” Earls voice reverberated around the suffocating room and Burke walked out of sight with a grin.

“You listen to me Max. He isn’t worth it; we both know that.” The strong grip remained until Max let out a deep breath and relaxed. The sheriff shifted uncomfortably with a rigidness to his entire being and Max knew something was wrong.

“You are going to have to leave however and I’m sorry.” Earl didn’t give Max a chance to speak. “Burke has spread fear amongst the people here and they are demanding for your removal.” In a way it wasn’t surprising, the tattoo alone was enough for people to shun him. let alone accusations from a US Marshall. Even so he couldn’t help but feel dejected.

“You can’t even wait until the morning I’m afraid; it has to be now. I don’t trust them not to take matters into their own hands.” The sheriff helped pack the little belongings that weren’t already in place. “People are angry, families have been devastated. Please try not to judge them harshly Max.” It was too late for that; his mind was made up. The people he was supposed to protect didn’t want him. To hell with the Henbane.

He left without a word. People were still hanging around and as he passed, the suppressed violence could be felt through the many eyes that watched his retreating form. The sheriff escorted him. Max knew not if Earl was making sure he remained safe or if it were to show the people that he had listened.

It was almost cold, and the wind sent a shiver through him. Max tugged on a jumper, even though it were dark he could see nearly to the end of the road and the shiny car Joseph had left him was gone. Traveling by foot in the middle of night was a bad idea but what other choice were there? None that Max could think of. With a sigh he set off in the direction he thought right.

He stuck to the road, the sheer darkness of the forest was intimidating, and he didn’t fancy accidently standing on or bumping into wild animals. It was quiet as he walked, there wasn’t a single sound. Other than his own breathing and footfalls. Max enjoyed walking, it reminded him of the times he went hiking with his dad. There weren’t many good memories from that time in his life but Max clutched the good one in the tightest grasp.

He had gotten maybe a mile into Holland Valley, with the moon still bright above him before there was a rustle in the black undergrowth. Then deadly silence before a muffled crack to the right made him whip around, deep in the thick forestry. Before he had a chance to move, a rubber bullet was imbedded partially into the meat of his forearm. He glared into the thicket but couldn’t see anyone. The world was floating as he toppled to the ground until a sharp pain cut through the pillow that he had been easily sinking into with a blur to his vision. Someone slapped him.

“Shit, don’t you dare go under.” A man loomed above him wearing the scratchy Eden’s Gate jumpers. Max gazed over to the stranger with wide, glazed eyes.

“He’ll have you for this Stephan.” Another person stepped up as Max struggled to keep conscious. The stranger’s eyes were pinned on his throat and Stephan ran a hand through his hair roughly in frustration.

“Not if he doesn’t find out.” Thin arms half lifted him off the floor and dragged him off the road further into the forest. Trees stretched out of proportion before him and as a wave of queasiness washed over him, Max could do nothing against the swell of nausea and threw up. He still had enough sense not to make a mess of himself.

“But he always finds out.” Were they talking about Joseph? He did always seem to know what was going on or so Max thought.

“You best keep quiet then, he left the jail I thought.” Stephan was interrupted.

“That he was a resistance member?” The stranger sneered at his companion, clearly tired of his careless mannerisms. He already felt better after emptying his stomach, it was almost as if he had become slightly resistant to the drug and that was a sobering thought. He still felt giddy but wouldn’t go under yet. He had to move away from the strange men.

Who fell silent as Max broke free from Stephan’s grasp and on shaky legs set off back in what he hoped was the right direction. It took a few moments for him to realise that the men were following him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Max can't catch a break huh? 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter ^^ 
> 
> Please let me know if it feels rushed.


	14. The long road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was determined to get this chapter out on time, enjoy! :D
> 
> I have proof read this so it shouldn't have any errors but my mind is pretty fried right now so if there is, can someone let me know?

He didn’t get very far and within five minutes had to sit down, dizzy. It was so strong that Max had his head rested between tapping thighs with his eyes clamped shut. He had forgotten about the bullet, could it be keeping him dosed up? Self-inflicting pain was something he has always struggled with and for good reason, but it had to come out one way or another.

“DON’T.” Stephan’s friend bolted forward but it was too late, with a harsh pull it fell into Max’s lose fist. The thought that it could have been plugging an artery was lost on him, but luckily it hadn’t gone deep and so he wouldn’t bleed to death. Stephan rolled his eyes and shoved Max forward without a care or thought. Blood sluggishly wept threw the thin hoodie to soak the soft grey of the jumper to slowly stain a deep red.

As Max looked down at the bloody rubber bullet in his palm, the night in New York came rushing back. His throat closed but with deep breaths, Max slowly repressed the anxiety that tried to take him over. What would Emily think of all this? He had been so keen to leave the state that he missed her funeral. Shame was an acquainted friend by this stage in his life, but Max wished he could have tucked her soft looking brown locks behind her ear just once.

Who could tell where they would be now if he had, she had clearly been interested but Max at the time had been scared. Anger at the past brought forward an itch, one that he hadn’t felt in weeks. Luckily, John had taken it from him already. He didn’t know if he could have resisted if it were on his person. Small steps, Max stood and found the lack of wobbling trees sign enough that he could continue forward.

A dark thought crossed his mind whilst walking, what if he rang John right now. With the moon starting to descend, high and in the middle of what he thought was … Max finally recognised the little sign on the trail that lay not far ahead. It brought back a fond memory, a rarity considering recent events. He was reminded of how he got lost driving into Holland valley for the first time. After driving around the many country roads for hours, tired and nearly out of fuel. He ended up pulling outside of Dodd residence and a green haired woman had helpfully directed Max to falls end with the help of a charming old man. Who had even offered him a warm drink and a place to stay for the night if Max still couldn’t find his way, along with some fuel to see him to the desired destination.

The quaint house was empty however, all the lights were off, and the front door was splintered. Max traced the doorframe with a frown, hopefully they wouldn’t be of interest to the cult. His legs felt like blocks of lead as he crossed the threshold. Dust had settled on every surface thickly; it must have been some time since anyone had been home. The two men waited outside, and he was greeted with the suspicious face of Stephan. Who tapped his foot impatiently when Max slowly walked out of the stale home. He was sick of them; would they just follow him everywhere?

The buzzing as his phone connected with the local network quickly drew attention and Max walked away in hopes of gaining some space but they were quick to rush after him. The more reasonable of the two tried to hold the other back but failed.

“DON’T even _think_ about it.” Stephan lurched forward but Max was quicker, and he skipped away with the buzzing going on and on until with a relieved sigh, the call was answered. The half-awake drawl of John was instantly soothing.

“So, you finally ring me.” Max couldn’t tell if John was pleased or agitated probably both, although his voice gave nothing away. His pursuers stood frozen and Max couldn’t help the sinister smirk that spread on his face at the pleading look on Stephan’s face, he seemed to shrink under Max’s gaze.

“Do you have any bandages at your place?” He didn’t know where, but John would have everything he even needed tenfold. John couldn’t resist the chance to have his own little sanctuary, a place to block out the rest of the world and Max found himself wanting. Being involved in Johns life in any way was a dangerous thing, let alone what they used to have.

“Of course, I do. Who do you take me for?” There was a pause and John sucked in a sharp breath before his words came out in a rush, finally aware of the situation. “Are you injured? Is it bad?” Max grinned and with a glare thrown at Stephan even as the man shook his head wildly, he continued.

“I’m kind of high right now so please stop me if I don’t make sense-”

“YOU WHAT? How, I already went through your bag. Unless someone is supplying you? But in this economy?” He trailed off and said nothing for a long moment, obviously attempting to read between the lines.

“Who did it?” A shiver washed over Max at the menacing tone as John practically growled down the phone, his voice sharp. Max could imagine how red Johns ears probably were, it was a sure-fire way to tell if he was upset.

“Do you know Stephan?” Max flinched at the loud crack on the other end and the signal weakened. Definitely knew him then, John took a deep steadying breath and loosened the deathly tight grip he had of the phone.

“You **will** meet me Max, I expect you to be near the pumpkin farm within the hour. With or without Stephan.” He wasn’t far, he could make it in time but only if the goons behind him behaved. John didn’t sound happy one bit and Max wondered if he would get an earful.

“See you there.” He wanted to lose them before meeting John. The moment he hung up Stephan rushed, and a fist connected with the side of Max’s jaw. His vision blurred and he stumbled but an arm stuck out and kept him up whilst he wavered. Anger flared but he restrained himself, whatever John would do once he found Stephan would be far worse.

“Are you kidding me Russell?” Stephan paced before them with a tight hold on the gun that Max had all but forgotten about. Russell tensed at the knuckle white grasp Stephan had over the firearm. He seemed like quite an impulsive person and for once, Max was glad that Russell was with him.

“Go and talk to Joseph and if you’re lucky he might grant forgiveness. I will make sure he reaches John in time and put in a word for you. Just remember to show some remorse alright?” Russell didn’t wait for a reply, with a firm tug he pulled Max along. Would Joseph grant him forgiveness? Perhaps, but it didn’t matter. If his jaw bruised or swelled and it certainly felt like it was starting to, then Max wasn’t sure Joseph would be able to control the razor thin hold he had over John.

John might have a temper, but had never hurt Max physically in anger, he wouldn’t stand for it. How many people had they apprehended from the jail? Too many in Max’s eyes, Stephan deserved what was coming to him. He was a brute, who probably didn’t believe in Eden’s Gates ideals and just wanted an excuse to hurt people.

The walked in silence, Russell wouldn’t let go of his arm. As if Max would try to escape, a silly thought that almost made him laugh. Russel gave him an unreadable look at the little huff of laughter that managed to escape but said nothing.

There was no getaway from John. They had an hour to get to the farm but with the consistent pulling from Russell it took around half an hour. Max started to slack; he hadn’t had enough sleep in a long time, and it had started to catch up with him.

A burst of energy washed over him however as the sight of the farm came into view and he pulled the less enthusiastic man ahead. The trees parted to reveal a long gravel road and as they made it to around halfway down, Russel yanked Max to a standstill.

“You might have to vouch for me. John isn’t very forging … please.” He didn’t know how his men were treated but Max had an inkling that they were sent up to big brother Jacob to be corrected. Russel had been reasonable.

Once Max stepped forward into sight of the bustling farm, John practically sprinted towards him. Arms encircled him instantly, running up his side looking for injury. Other than the obvious blood stain on his shoulder, Max wasn’t in too bad of a state or so he thought.

“WHAT is _that_.” John pressed lightly on his jaw and instantly withdrew as if he had been burnt at Max’s hiss. His other hand clutched his jumper harshly, tighter than he meant to. Hard enough that nails drug a hole into the soft wool. He clearly knew what it was, and Max squirmed under John’s intense yet alarmed gaze.

“It was Stephan, Sir.” Russell was promptly frozen under the look of simmering rage that John sent him, whatever else he was going to say stuck in his throat.

“Is that true Max?” He nodded rigidly and Russell relaxed minutely only to pause as John narrowed his eyes at him.

“Go into the barn.” Max watched as Russell trudged away. To the barn but for what purpose? John didn’t offer up an explanation and a guarded expression awaited him. It was only once the truck doors locked and they were just turning out onto the main road, that John eased into the seat. 

Did John think that Max was going to bring the wrath of the jail with him? They didn’t deserve his help, not in the Henbane anyway. He tried not to think about the damage done to his home. The drive was in silence and Max watched the serene fields pass, it was a comfortable quiet. To his initial surprise John was driving and there wasn’t any lackies with them. John hummed along to the nearly mute radio and there was something incredibly nostalgic about it, like they had gone on a day trip and Max had overexerted himself. In moments like those John would drive them both back, satisfied after listening to Max excitedly talk about different landmarks and hiking trails.

He dosed with the warm memories wrapping him up like a pillow. It felt like not a minute later when John opened his door and lightly poked Max, cooing at his disgruntled sleepy face. However, the sight of John’s ranch quickly woke him up, it was certainly not what he expected. Sure, it was huge, but John had always preferred a more modern style. He had obviously had it custom made as it was different to every building Max had seen so far in Hope county. John had the audacity to giggle as Max’s eye bulged when he spotted the runway off another building. He must have finally gotten a flying licence, John had always spoke of getting one but being a successful lawyer had been a busy job.

With a soft touch and a boyish smile John led him into the closest building, wood was everywhere. It should have been called a lodge instead of ranch and Max was tempted to say so. Until he noticed John slump onto a leather couch, kicking his feet out as he did. Watching Max lazily with his arms behind his head.

“So as grand as you imagined?” Max took a moment to properly look around the room and it was luxurious but it lacked the elegance that John usually prioritised. There were many mounted animal trophies, and it was doubtful that they were authentic. Unless Jacob had hunted and killed them himself. There was a massive table in the middle of the room, which looked like it was mahogany. Alongside an old and cosy armchair in the corner was a massive bookcase with more books that Max remembered John owning. Then again there hadn’t been space in the previous apartment.

“Actually, this is a little tame for you, not nearly enough marble.” With a grin, Max sat on the adjacent piece of furniture only to wince as the jumper tried pull where it was stuck to his arm. Blood having finally dried.

“Ah we should probably take a look at that, bathrooms upstairs on the third door to the left.” Halfway up the winding wooden stairs, John shouted to him from what Max guessed was the kitchen. How many rooms did one man need? There were at a minimum of eight that Max noticed, with more probably hiding. Wood panels lined all the walls and even at such a gigantic size was still homey.

“You should see the kitchen; it has enough marble to make up for the entire of Hope County.” Max didn’t doubt him, the clink of his little heeled boots could be heard all the way from where Max leant on the side of a marble tiled wall within a bathroom which was bigger than the front room of his ransacked house. 

The mirror was freestanding and of course full length. Max pushed stray curly locks away from his eyes, he really needed a haircut. There wasn’t a first aid kit in the cabinet and Max had to entertain himself whilst waiting for John. He started with peeling off the ruined jumper gingerly and let it plop onto the floor in the corner, with the dried blood side facing the ceiling.

The damage compared to the last few weeks was minor thankfully, blood had begun to ooze again after being disturbed. It wasn’t deep and Max didn’t feel stitches were necessary, his back however was frown worthy. The stitches had nearly dissolved and left behind what Max could see as bright pink, ugly and thick scars with a few scabs remaining. His co-workers in New York would have called them battle scars and in a way they were.

“If you’re not careful you’ll have more scars than Jacob.” John stood at the door, holding so many things that Max could only see a pair of blue eyes sticking out above a stack of towels. Underneath the unnecessary large number of towels was a first aid kit along with what looked like a set of clothes. Max was quite far away from the number of scars that Jacob had acquired. 

He set them down unceremoniously onto the floor apart from a little flannel before, scrutinising Max’s arm. After a quick assessment and without a word John stuck the flannel under the sink until it was comfortably warm under the spray and then started wiping the blood gently away to reveal the small hole.

“You do get into such trouble Max.” His eyes had fallen shut at the soothing motions but they opened as air brushed across his neck. John stood right in front of him, wearing a deliciously open expression that refused to meet his gaze. From this angle Max could enjoy the flutter of Johns eyelashes that prettily rested against his cheek with a blink. He basked in the sweep of Johns nose that met his immaculately groomed moustache and beard, down to his full lips that parted as if he knew where Max’s eyes strayed. 

He worked mostly in silence, with a few hummed apologises at the little grunts of pain that Max let slip. Especially at the antibacterial wipe that made his eyes water, but John was efficient. Far quicker than Max would have liked John fixed the little bandage into place and stepped back, admiring his work and the specimen before him.

When Max started fidgeting, he seemed to remember where he was and looked though the intimidating pile to find the clothing. With a coy smile and something playful gracing his expression, John passed over the clothes. At the last second, he grabbed the outstretched palm and tenderly kissed each knuckle. Slowly so that Max could feel each brush of skin clearly and he forgot how to breathe.

“You can use the spare room, it’s just opposite.” The words were murmured against Max’s skin and after a long moment he drew away and out of the room entirely, with one last satisfied glowing smile.


	15. A semblance of angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick heads up for the sensitive folks. There is a bit of homophobia in this chapter, not a lot but I thought it best to warn just in case it's triggering for some people. Stay safe! 💚
> 
> Make sure you're comfy, it's a long one.

It took far too long for Max to collect his thoughts and leave the bathroom after that. The soft melody coming from the kitchen didn’t help his dissociation. A thunderous bang from outside snapped him and his legs right out of it, with the way he nearly slipped in the haste to see what the commotion was. The wide window at the end of the hall was the perfect view to the drive and he had to stifle a laugh at the chaos outside.

“Idiots! Clean up this mess.” A follower was on his back, a broken crate that contained tinned food had spilled over him and others had paused to stare. Only for their own boxes to crumble. Whoever made those crates needed a new job. A few people hopped around as the tins had struck their feet no doubt. The stiff man that barked the command wore a long brown trench coat no to dissimilar to the one John wore on occasion and looked _just_ a bundle of joy to be around. He was similar to the men Jacob had up at the veterans centre and stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the lanky men slouching around. There were no women in sight and Max wondered if Jacob thought them to be weaker or some bullshit.

“They do make a mess sometimes don’t they.” Max flinched and had to restrain from frowning at being snuck up upon, but the sound of tinkling laugher was beautiful. John didn’t laugh nearly enough. Even before, with their almost normal it had been few and far between. John was a complex soul with far too many attentions occupying his head. One thought kept floating around Max’s, pinging off his ears only to circle around again. How long had John been living in this huge house alone? He must have been lonely, being as much of an affection seeker as he had been.

“I’m nimble or have you forgotten?” The deep rumble of Johns voice smoothed over his ears and goosebumps rose to the surface. Max had not forgotten, every time he glanced at the other man he remembered. “I don’t recall you being this shy.” John smirked up at the flush that burned the others checks. Fingers twitched against his and Max’s heart began to race at the surprisingly intimate way John rubbed his palm with a thumb, as if to comfort a scared animal. They stayed like that for quite a while until of course, the moment had to be spoiled by the shrill ring of a phone. With a hiss of annoyance John took a step back and took a deep breath to reign in the anger.

“Excuse me.” He traipsed out of sight, down the hall with one last glance at the still flushed Max before going downstairs, it must have been one his brothers not to elicit an instant shouting match at being disturbed. John was particular about certain things and being disturbed was one of them.

The guest room was huge but mostly empty and it looked unused which was probably accurate. There was a big bed in the centre and for some strange reason it didn’t touch a single wall. Max couldn’t remember ever sleeping in a bed that way, would John be offended if he moved it? Did he care? There was a pristine fireplace made of marble that had probably factory new, not that John did factory made and a tall wardrobe in the corner. Which looked like it was made of oak with knots running prettily down the entire surface, it was more than fine for his needs but to John’s standards the room was lacking. Wood panels were a nice, cosy, touch that enticed him to stay but it was no where near nightfall and he needed to keep some semblance of routine.

Having slept in much worse conditions, he couldn’t complain. A few of the worst teetered on his memory. A barn, under a bush and the most uncomfortable being a wheelbarrow in the middle of autumn. The bush was a story that Max didn’t often get time to tell, he had been drinking with his college friends and by the end of the night they all ended up passed out in various places in a field. His closest friend at the time Colin, had somehow slept in a tree. The hangover from that night still made him wince.

The bed dwarfed his rucksack and to his chagrin there was barely any clean clothes left, a trip was in order. His work holster looked sad; void of the service pistol that had been lost somewhere after the helicopter crash. He strapped it on his thigh anyway, John was lost in thought as Max wondered around the ranch. The drumming of his fingers on the closed laptop could be heard all the way upstairs, due to the lack of carpets the sound travelled well.

Max was just about done with exploring the upstairs, well the few that were unlocked. When he noticed a familiar sign in the far distance. Nick lived surprisingly close, enough so that he could have gotten away without taking Johns vehicle. Max had only been there the once but that had been all the way back when he first drove through the valley and at first, he could hardly remember. It felt like months had passed but it was only a few short weeks ago. John hadn’t battered an eyelid when Max left, just a noncommittal hum from the kitchen where he sat at a huge table on a sleek laptop. Looking at God knows what, Max did say he’d probably be back.

The gentle wind did wonders for his anxiety and with a deep breath, strode up to the faded wood and knocked on the door. A pause. Were they in? There was no truck out the front and the lights were off however it was the middle of the day and the sun was bright. Sweat started to bead on his forehead being in the direct sunlight as he was. You’d think that from being in hot states for years, he’d be accustomed to it by now.

He waited and, in the end sat away from the door on the step with drowsy eyes pinned on the swaying trees. The pace compared to the city was stark, but it was irresistible and had been what was missing. He had craved the sounds of nature, the smell of pine and the sun. It was tranquil for the moment and grounding.

There was finally a slow creak, and a deep sigh could be heard from behind. Max whipped around only for door to nearly trap his nose.

“You need to leave, can’t be here.” Kim, she looked nervous from what Max could see through the tiny space the scarcely open door allowed.

“Who is it?” Nick this time, his boots stomped down the stairs towards the commotion. Loud enough for Max to hear him clearly and a flash of concern washed over Kim’s face.

“Somebody was just asking for directions. They were just going.” She stared pointedly with desperation hardening her features. Had Nick gone mad, overprotective of his pregnant partner or was there something more. Either way he was no fool and started to walk away, he could return another time perhaps. Max couldn’t _wait_ to slowly melt in the truck, having parked in direct sunlight in the excitement to see the people he considered friends.

“What are you doing here?” Nick stood on the porch, bat in hand and Kim was desperately trying to pull him inside but she was ignored.

“Nothing I’m going, don’t want no trouble.” Nicks stance alone was enough to make him back up. He was tense, coiled as a spring with white knuckles from the tightness of his grip on the bat.

“Is that so? I just can’t understand how I read you so wrong.” Max didn’t want to hear it, but he stopped just short of the truck. Faced away as if not seeing the rejection on Nicks face would make it any less real.

“If it were Faith I’d understand, but a fucking man? Seriously and John at that.” It was a constant worry, but they weren’t in Texas and Nick had been so nice before… He didn’t owe Nick anything and yet, He still felt like explaining that no he wasn’t gay but bisexual. Neither were better than the other and Max had been around for long enough to know a lost case.

“You aren’t the person I thought you were. A Goddamn sinner is what you are.” There it was the familiar sneer, and it took him back. The air clogged in Max’s throat and he struggled not to cough. Where had he heard that before? The “cult” had been the most excepting out of everyone Max had met, all it took was his sexual orientation for Nick to be almost frothing at the mouth. John was very open about his past and none of the flock cared, but an ordinary person. Someone who Max thought to be a good person looked as if they would happily give the bat a swing.

They are ignorant, they don’t understand. The words of a past lover that he had to hide with on many occasions whilst in Georgia and in his adolescence, kept the trembling of his shoulders at bay. He had been so caring and understanding of everything, even when beaten blue there was pity. Sympathy that they could be blinded by something so small as another person’s lifestyle. 

They were someone Max looked up to and had never let their hatred take him. Max in that moment with Nick spewing nothing but unfiltered disgust and naivety, tried desperately to do the same. It was hard. He walked away without a word, didn’t turn back once to look at them. Even with Nick walking up to the truck, shouting as he went. Put the truck in reverse and as quickly as safely possible, drove.

“If I ever see you again!” Max didn’t hear the last of it, but it was a sadly easy sentence for him to finish.

The radio didn’t help his thoughts in the slightest, if Nick knew how many others did to? His thigh burned and longed to feel the weight of the pistol, not to hurt people unless absolutely necessary but as a safety measure. People didn’t fuck with guns unless they were crazy, but didn’t that just sum up Hope County?

Max drove on autopilot, too wrapped up in the past and didn’t notice how his nails bit into the skin of his palm, they came away bloody when he turned the radio off and left a smear on the dial. In a blur that must have been at least 20 minutes but felt less than 2, he was outside.

Someone was laughing from high up at his misfortune, Max needed to exercise. To do anything to safely express his rage. Outside of where a house had once been, he fell to floor in defeat. Not noticing the pain of his knees hitting the hard ground on the way down. His home. Burned to the ground. It was too much to cope with in a normal situation, which this wasn’t.

Unknown to Max, John had begun to fret. He paced; had he been lied to? Max had been too long. Messages were ignored and so were calls. Max hadn’t noticed the buzz in his back pocket. He allowed a moment to feel anger, sadness at how shit the last hour had turned out. The decision was made, whether Max had been aware or not. There was no going back now.

It was a freeing thought, one of the few he’d in recent months. Part of the building still burned with smoke that was swept away constantly by the wind. Nothing would have survived but that didn’t stop the curiosity to look. The upper floor was completely gone but some of the stairs stubbornly remained, the fridge was in the best shape. All the plastic had melted, and the door had been forced open at the lack of seals but some of the metal frame remained standing. Max saw all of this from the outside as many of the walls had collapsed, he wouldn’t go inside.

The shed had been considered unimportant and left. The tools inside weren’t completely useless but Max left them, searching for something far more important. Right at the back of the shed, beneath a huge plant pot a little safe had been hidden. One that was not fireproof, it was a miniscule thing. Around 8 inches wide and not much more vertically but contained a few essential items, one of them being a tiny pistol. A Glock G42 to be exact and whilst it wouldn’t fit in his thigh holster as it measured a measly 6 inches, anything was better than nothing and he found it quite charming at the time of purchase.

It was a small positive in the sea of bullshit. Originally it had been purchased in New York when he was paranoid and needed hidden protection. It hadn’t been fired other than to test the weight and recoil in the shop, hopefully that trend would continue. If he were lucky the holster, that was purchased at the same time was inside, but looking would have to wait. 

He needed some time. The roads were empty, which allowed for dangerous driving and the adrenaline rush from the speed was addictive but not as good as the wind pounding his face, when on a motorbike. He had worked on it for a few years and sold it for a nice sum before moving to New York. It left a bitter taste; the whole situation did. One that followed him all the way back to the ranch.

By the time he got to the property and had driven straight in, with no resistance it was nearly dark. No one dared to stop John’s truck even if it he wasn’t present in the vehicle. Successfully numb, blasting rock music for a few hours and driving around certainly should have helped and yet all that had been achieved was the repression of emotions.

John met him at the door and could tell instantly that something was wrong. The faraway gleam was a sure give away, but he kept quiet and hushed Max inside with a leading hand on his lower back. The fireplace crackled inside; gentle waves of heat could be felt the instant he entered. The safe was deposited on a side counter a long with the little pistol that John couldn’t help but grin at.

“Did you find what you need?” He spoke softly, hesitantly from an old armchair, trying for once to be what he thought Max needed. The heat made his hair a mess, unsticking the gel that kept it back only for strands to fall in front of his eyes. An unfairly attractive man was John, and he knew it making no move to fix his hair.

“The house it… it’s gone. Burned down.” John hummed thoughtfully, chin resting on his clasped tattooed fingers a frown pinching at his eyebrows. It was distracting Max; couldn’t he be the dramatic one for once?

“I guess that means you have to stay here.” There it was the mischievous gleam. That, he knew how to deal with. “With little old me hm?” Max was in one of those moods, John could tell. It hadn’t been often before, but he knew just the right boost.

“I’ve got something that will make you feel better.” He was up in a flourish towards the bookcase and Max’s jaw dropped. When John pulled the lowest shelf forward and it was realised to be fake, a very convincing one at that. A bottle of brandy and two glasses were set gently on the table a long with what looked like.

“Is that?”

“If Joseph happens to come over unannounced it’s yours ok?” With a wink, John sat next to him and started rolling a joint. His tongue stuck out as he worked, and Max had to fight the urge to poke it.

“Not as much of saint as you appear.” Tinkling laughter once again graced his ears, his eyes crinkled at the action. Simply ethereal.

“As if you’re any better sweetheart.” The drawl took Max off guard and John giggled at the constipated look on Max’s face, but the blush gave him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't know how much I have to reframe from making John use terms of endearment...


	16. Endearing circumstances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there are any spelling/ grammatical mistakes but if there is, don't hesitate to let me know! 
> 
> I have no beta, it's just little old me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it is admittedly a bit self indulgent. :D

When John was high, he was easier to deal with. Relaxed in a way that Max assumed to be impossible otherwise. He lay, hand loosely behind his head with one leg dangling over the edge of the armrest. Sat sideways, which stretched out his body alluringly. The other was bent pressed close to his chest, the position made Max’s back ache, but he seemed comfortable enough.

“This is my last stash, so enjoy _please_.” Battered eyelashes were sent his way, John was in a great mood. It wouldn’t do to spoil such a rare occurrence. It was neither’s drug of choice, but Max was done with it all or so he thought. The second-hand smoke was enough, let alone the blunt that slowly burned between his fingers. It would be the last time. He couldn’t deny John the moment of respite. Who somehow knew Max was hesitant even though his eyes were closed, and face turned away. It offered up his neck which was painstakingly clean and pale, a bruise would sit there beautifully.

The man before him had hardly aged in the few years they’d been apart, Max knew time hadn’t been kind to himself, with various lines now streaking lightly over his face however it wasn’t too deeply set. With the amount of stress he had been under it was hardly surprising.

There were a few lines around his eyes that were new but other than that John looked just the same. The edges of his vision blurred and with a puff of smoke rolling out of his lungs, the high set in. His doctor would have been livid if only they could see him now, letting the smoke set into his lungs before blowing it across the room. Max missed this. The calmness that could be achieved and was only possible through that specific drug.

“Slower, you’ll make yourself sick.” John had that little smile, the one that made his heart melt. He spoke gentler and it allowed more of the sultry drawl through. He knew Max loved it, the bastard. Half of the blunt was already gone by the time he managed to pull his eyes away from the breath-taking figure that was John Seed. How had that happened? But he was right, there had been many occasions where Max had taken the hit too fast and been sick.

“I suppose you want to know what happened after I left?” The thought hadn’t crossed his mind in a while, but John must have needed to get it off his chest. With a noncommittal hum he waited, curious and yet dreading the inevitable deepness of the conversation.

“Joe needed my help to find Jacob.” There was a pause. John frowned as if trying to pick his words carefully. “Needed my money to fund the project, he had nothing.” His face soured, John was no doubt proud that he could provide for his brothers but there would always be that niggling voice. Before they had lightly spoken about it, how John was plagued with self-doubt and a restlessness to be better always. He needed the attention not his money but on himself, it was an unrelenting craving.

“How did he find you?” The question made John fidget, foot tapping the air lightly.

“It was by chance. Saw my name on a billboard, whilst in the area.” By chance? Meeting John again had felt similar. Max could have gone anywhere else and it just so happened to be the right place in all the US.

“It took months to find Jacob and when we did.” John paused to inhale more smoke. “He was a shell of what he is now.” They sat quietly for some time, enjoying the haze. It was as if the outside world didn’t exist and Max supposed it didn’t as he wasn’t currently experiencing it. Time dragged slowly in the silence and Max gradually slid down the adjacent armchair with his head tipped back in tranquillity.

“After that, everything fell into place. How long did you last in the apartment?” It took a moment to register the question but as soon as it did, Max felt that old anger work to the surface.

“Not even 6 months.” The way his voiced rasped around the words didn’t go unnoticed. John looked down at his clasped, clammy hands and sighed heavily as if the weight of the all the wood that made the ranch walls, pushed upon his shoulders. With possibly the most delicate expression that Max had ever seen of his face, John muttered quietly.

“I came back for you and you weren’t there.” Thoughts raced in loops, what if’s that he had tried to put to bed that now couldn’t be dampened down.

“When.” Max felt sick, if only he’d waited. Why didn’t he wait?

“After a year.” John kept his gaze pointed firmly in his lap and Max wanted so desperately to cup his cheeks and search his sorrowful face.

“You could have called?” His number had been the same for years, stubborn to keep bridges open with people long gone.

“I was a… coward.” John finally peeped a glance up and was met with the flushed face that Max couldn’t hide even if he had been wearing makeup. He had been a coward but the fact that he could see the shitty behaviour was a testament to how much he had matured.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again. The you’d be with someone else.” What would Max have done if John reappeared out of nowhere? Been angry yes but he would have listened to whatever excuse John pored his way.

“I never stopped caring.” There had almost been someone else, it would have gone that way eventually if he didn’t fuck up. Max had also been a coward. John looked upon him in a new light, face openly surprised as if he expected Max to kick him whilst being so vulnerable. Like John expected him to laugh and say it was all an elaborate lie just to cause him pain. Max could never, in the past there had been bad arguments, but Max hadn’t ever tried to purposefully put John down.

“ _Fuck_.” Lost in the conversation, Max didn’t notice how the burning leaves had been slowly creeping towards the tips of his fingers. It stung a bit, but Johns chuckle made it a worthwhile pain. Max didn’t know if he wanted to give John a hug or slap him in the face. John would enjoy both however which was beside the point. Instead, he did nothing other than savour the last smoke-filled breath.

“I’m a better person now, Max?” John squinted before relinquishing ownership of the brandy that Max reached to take, which had been cradled between his hip and the armchair. He swallowed as Max’s fingers brushed the thin skin of his side whilst the man in question happily poured a double measurement for them both. It was rich but warm and did not go down easily at room temperature, the heat made it sickly.

“Do you have any ice?” John nodded after a moment of watching the liquid settle in the bottom of the glass and left the spacious room to locate the much-needed ice. It gave Max a moment to check his phone, and for once he had a few missed calls from Staci and a message from Joseph of all people. It left him understandably apprehensive. Staci was much more predictable. 

He answered almost immediately. “Oh, so you are alive.” Pratt snarled down the line. Loud enough that the phone was quickly pushed away from his scrunched face.

“And here I thought either the resistance had got you, or you were getting high with John.” Uncomfortable silence ensued but Max’s light chuckle made it plainly clear. “Seriously? I’m going to kick your ass when I see you next.” The words had no bite to them.

“How’s the ankle?” He should have rung; Staci had found out second hand that he left.

“Shit, how’s the lung.” Max paused and took a few deep breaths; heavy exercise certainly wouldn’t do him any good or smoking… but it was getting better sluggishly.

“Better.” A muffled voice could be heard through the receiver, something about peaches?

“I’ve got to go. Stay safe and keep in touch. Speak to you later.” Without waiting for a reply Staci hung up. Leaving Max to stare absentmindedly out of one of the wide windows.

It was pitch black in the far distance a stark contrast to New York, where lights made it so that it was never truly dark. He could make out tress against what must have been a road with little streetlights far away but that was all. Nothing but sheer darkness. It was beautiful. Another ping came through, from Joseph again.

Many messages awaited with the majority being question marks but right at the top was a picture that had Max choking on the brandy, which he sipped at the worst possible time. Joseph Seed had almost sent him a nude, it couldn’t be on purpose? He lay across a deck chair on his stomach, shirt unbuttoned and had risen enough to show the swell of his hips. The camera was aimed at his ass which was _thankfully_ clothed, but the angle was very suspicious. Joseph looked over his shoulder into the camera and upon his arse lay a frog, Jerry it must have been. What if Joseph had multiple frog friends? 

The deep sigh to his left, almost made him throw the glass in fright. John was on his tiptoes and even in heeled boots could hardly see over Max’s shoulder. He rolled his eyes at the photo in distain but didn’t seem to be concerned.

“Jesus Christ, John.” Max needed a lie down after that, he was full of adrenaline with nothing to use it on and his heart raced. The clink of an ice cube being plopped into the glass was welcome and with a pleased sigh, he took a delighted drink. The floral, sweet taste washed over his mouth smoothly. Only to burn right down his throat, good stuff. 

“Ah you flatter me, but seriously if you don’t reply he will spam you.” The message was short, _Jerry says hello_. John must have spoken in experience, the frown at such a thought was telling.

“What’s the deal with Jerry?” John downed his brandy as Max fired a quick hello back to Joseph, who by that point had sent him another 5 messages all containing question marks.

“It’s a long story. Honestly, I’m not sure it’s… worth telling.” Max was however, curious and insisted in knowing anyway. To his chagrin John was right and it wasn’t that interesting. With the brandy bottle nearly empty between them, John managed to explain how one night the frog had appeared and since then hadn’t left the little pond that Joseph himself dug and filled for the little creature. Apparently as John saw it, Jerry helps with the development of bliss under the guidance of God. Jacob obviously thought it bullshit but John was much harder to read.

It was more than a little strange, but Max was swiftly becoming used to John’s siblings, Joseph didn’t send another message and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it. John didn’t seem fazed, but he did trust his brother. They finished the off the rest of the bottle with fond memories of when they first moved in together.

They had been dating for a very short period before John offered him the keys hopefully one night. Max could remember it clearly. He was exhausted after doing an extra shift to cover an ill co-worker and had arrived at the lawyer’s fancy apartment to a 3-course meal that John had prepared himself. It was good food and they had drunk a bottle of red wine. Giggling and stumbling around the apartment, John had slipped a set of keys into Max’s palm and closed it tight.

Max woke groggy, his tongue was like sandpaper and a splintering headache had just started getting comfortable behind his eyes. Max couldn’t remember falling asleep and it was still dark out. A low whimper quickly washed away the daze of sleep and it quickly became apparent that something was wrong, John was screaming and pleading in his sleep.

Max bolted off the armchair and ignored the ache of his back for such a restricted sleeping position, John was opposite him thrashing as much as the little space allowed. He had managed to knock over the brandy bottle with a flailing arm, which smashed once hitting the cold floor, but it didn’t wake him.

With a steady grip Max lightly shook John but to no avail, he whined pitifully. The tendrils of sleep were harshly embedded into the sweaty sheen of his skin. “Shh, I’m here.” Max awkwardly cupped John’s pink cheeks and stroked softly, coaxing him awake. Slowly John’s movements stilled and after a minute of continuous hushed reassurance, John opened his eyes.

“Shush, I’m here. You’re fine, it’s just a dream. You’re safe.” Big, heavy tears swelled and flowed down his face. The gel holding his style had failed and locks of hair had fallen out of place, with some having fallen over his eyes. Max wiped the tears away from one side but before he got to the other, John launched himself up into Max’s arms. Who stumbled back at the sudden added weight that nearly threw him off balance but luckily, he fell backwards into the armchair and had missed the table completely. John didn’t let go. The glass crunched underneath the shoes he had passed out wearing.

His face was shoved into Max’s neck and he took gasping breaths to try and calm himself, lightly trembling, with his arms and legs wrapped around Max’s waist like an octopus. It was uncomfortable in the little seat but he daren’t move him. He could feel tears start to stain his shoulder, but John relaxed little by little as Max steadily rubbed up and down his back. After a few minutes John had slackened so much that he nearly fell backwards but Max held him steady. 

“You ok?” A slight shake of the head was the only response along with his fingers that gripped so tightly into his shoulders it hurt. He was scared that Max would what? Throw him off? When was the last time someone just gave John a hug? Max laced a palm through the back of his hair gently before smoothing it back down his back.

“Want to talk about it?” Unsurprisingly John didn’t want to. Max smiled softly into his hair at another little head shake. It was these moments that reminded him that John was more than an eccentric, overwhelming, and selfish bastard. He was more vulnerable than most but hid it well behind a wall of sarcasm and anger. A damaged soul that needed nurturing with soft hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the story didn't progress much in this chapter but I needed a little softness. ^^
> 
> I don't know if any of you are into cyberpunk 2077 but I plan to do some writing, nothing as big as this at the moment. I don't have enough time but keep an eye out for it if you're interested!


	17. Honeypot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> There shouldn't be any spelling or grammatical errors but if so please let me know. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, I enjoyed writing this one a lot.

“Do we really have to go?” The rosy red of a blush, stained John’s cheeks in an instant and Max couldn’t understand until with a spluttered laugh it dawned on him. John sure hadn’t heard him whine like that in a few years. John was quick to throw a sharp glare however that was in stark contrast to his next words, the possessive man wanted Max away from the inquisitive gaze of Joseph, not to mention John had _that_ look.

The one that always ended in a lengthy discussion on how relying on any substance would cloud the plans of God, John didn’t know what behaviour gave it away. He showered and acted as normal, but Joseph could always tell when John was on a comedown from drugs, mild or otherwise.

“It will only take a few hours.” The sentence was spoken on one long sigh and Max had to stifle the laugh as John pouted subconsciously across the long table that resided within the spotless kitchen.

Captive in the dinning chair that he was, with the armrest digging into his ribs painfully. Max couldn’t help but wonder how long this domesticity could last or how John appeared comfortable in the ridged chairs that forced immaculate posture. Did his feet even touch the ground with how tall they were? It was doubtful.

How could he check without looking suspicious? John wasn’t as bothered by his height as everyone expected … unless it was pointed out. “Then we can come back here.” Max was just about to _accidently_ knock off the teaspoon that sat in his empty mug but the vulnerability to Johns next words were quick to gain his full attention. Time paused as John wet his lips and looked at his shoes in mock interest. “Assuming you want to come back with _me_?”

“Of course I do.” John drew him like a magnet there was no doubt that the flame from their last endeavour was still ablaze, but he still had a few **minor** reservations about being a part of cult. One that had kidnapped people. Broken numerous properties. Murdered others. Wasn’t he supposed to be a law enforcer? Bad things happened and it was naïve to assume everything as black or white but even then… Best not to think on it honestly.

The ride down to the church was tense. John was quiet the whole time, knuckles white on the steering wheel. It did not fill Max with any enthusiasm. Johns mood had been soured since getting the call from Joseph, disturbing the little sleep they had managed to get. He asked them to come and view the next sermon. Which just so happened to be in a few hours. It was more of a demand, John moved away from Max’s inquisitive gaze the second the phone touched his ear. What would he walk into? Even the corny cult radio music couldn’t lift Johns mood.

The man in question flashy truck was the sole car within the little car park. There was an attempt to smile in reassurance before getting out onto fine gravel, but it came across as more of a grimace. There was unmistakable discomfort on his refined chisel features. Max should have asked on the way. Why didn’t he? What’s wrong John? A simple few words but even then, they stuck in Max’s throat and the moment was gone as the man in question let the light wind ruffle his slicked back hair outside of the mock safety of the vehicle.

“Let’s go.” He had a tight hold of Max’s sleeve, nails lightly teasing the skin of his wrist. A clear reminder to behave but a joke bubbled under his skin about how perhaps Joseph was compensating for something as the sheer mass of the church stunned him yet again.

It was still just as anxiety inducing as the last time, but they were early. Which meant in theory Max could sit wherever he wanted. Joseph greeted them at the door with a forehead boop as Max had taken to calling it. He felt the tense grip on his wrist from John loosen as he ‘allowed’ Joseph to rest his warm yet moist forehead against his. Allowed was a exaggeration moreover as Max was too busy trying to escape the intense gaze of Joseph to even notice the movement and when he finally did with a little puff of air it was all over.

He ended up sat in the front row next to John, not hidden in a corner where the flickering light of the candles wouldn’t reach. Still with the candles? People were quick to arrive, it seemed like they just missed rush hour. If a church could even have such a thing.

The one benefit of being at the front meant he wouldn’t see the curious faces of the followers … _apart_ from the many that flocked to greet John and then after noticing the awkwardly frozen man besides him, Max as well. Joseph went into his backroom to give some more time for people to arrive or to talk to God? Prepare a sacrifice? Or perhaps to indulge whatever pre speech activity, Max couldn’t tell and didn’t care. Indifferent to the whole thing or sought to be with the unease still coiling in his abdomen.

The smell of matches and wax caught his attention in the suffocating silence that only a church could house. There were many tall red candles dotted around the stage, the rest of the room had white candles. Were the red ones scented? He wouldn’t blame Joseph as some of the followers really did wear those jumpers everywhere all the time.

“Why don’t you spend some of that fancy lawyer money on some electricity?” Max expected to be scolded but John nodded in apparent agreement, leg tapping in noticeable discomfort for once not the put together man that was presented usually at all times. 

“I’ve tried, apparently the building would have to be rebuilt and as much as I implored.” John frowned for a fraction of a second and stood up quickly. Joseph accidently left the door into the backroom open and it looked like he was feeding the frog or Jerry, asparagus?

The frog rested in what looked like a tiny swimming pool, the type brought for children’s dolls to use and was bright pink with little yellow spots. The door was gently closed by John who took a deep breath before facing the room with a bright but pinched smile, but Max managed to glance Joseph lovingly trace his bible, lips moving but too far away to hear the words.

“Where was I … oh yes, Joseph doesn’t want the buildings connection to God being disturbed.” As if that made complete sense John smiled on as a few stragglers came over to shake John’s hand in addition to well wishes of his health and few even spoke of blessing his love life. Max tried not to choke on the water bottle that he was mid drinking and that slid down his grasp, to the back of his throat due to his suddenly lose grip and the condensation from the heat of the church. Damn slim water bottle! He would have to get a thicker one after that. One that wasn’t a choking hazard and what was with the heat suddenly making the room unbearable? 

John grabbed the bottle without thinking and pulled it out and away from Max mouth, face slack in thought and eyes trained on Max’s lips. “Get your thoughts out of the gutter! We are in your brothers church.” That put a genuine smile on Johns face, and he laughed quietly but Max could feel the harsh movement of the shoulders pressed against his own. It would have been a boisterous laugh had they been alone, a shame really to be denied that sound.

The loud creek of the door saved them both as Joseph finally decided it was time. “My children! There you all are. Here again we join to prepare for the clarity of God.” The room quickly became silent.

“We are entering a time of many possible outcomes, but one thing is SURE. Wraith _will_ spill over and try to corrupt. Many souls here have withstood countless hardships, but we must not lose sight NOW.” The man paced in long strides at the front on the little stage, unable to keep still. Raw with manic energy but the room listened on entranced as Joseph even went as far to pull his hair in frustration. Unable to speak fast enough. To explain his very soul to the group of people that would give their life for him, for _them_.

Max cannot help but become just as absorbed as the many awestruck faces behind him and even John watched his brother in rapture. Were that the same intensity Joseph used to claw John away from him? Or did it take less, in the moment Max could not be angry. Not when Joseph stared at him for a second too long and the light hair at the back of his neck stood on end. Danger. Leave. Escape, but they all stayed and listened. Like a moth to flame unable to escape the syrupy false sweetness of Josephs voice coated in honey.

“A **new** seal has revealed itself. Another soul will share my burden!” Max felt the intense need to look away. Look away, look away, _look._ He couldn’t. “Observe and decipher the sight gifted to his chosen.” John firmly watched Max and the light reassuring grip to his thigh that was nearly enough to snap him from the honeypot, _nearly_. Josephs dilated pupils rolled around the room, checking that all the attention fell to him as if it could be anywhere but.

“The wrath that **will** try to _coil_ around his throat will fail! For he will defeat the raving toxicity outside of these walls!” Johns fingers bit into his thighs harshly and finally Max took a breath and steadied his trembling shoulders, when had he started shaking?

Joseph heaved a shuddering gasp for air a short moment after, the need for oxygen forcing him to pause. The rest of the sermon was thankfully much less intense and shorter than expected, but John looked pleased and his eyes glinted with uninhibited mischief and relief. Max doesn’t understand what caused John’s mood to lift but he can’t complain, not when John fingers are stull dug into the cramped meat of his thigh that’s pushed against Johns own. The heat comforting even if it made Max feel as if he were locked in a sauna.

The fingers at his thighs kept him seated as the contented members of the church filed out slowly with beaming smiles directed at Joseph, who swayed lightly in place but appeared thrilled to listen gently to a few followers who asked questions. The smell of freshly cut fruit reached Max before he noticed Faith skip up to greet Joseph with a light hug, the flowers in her hair make him want to sneeze and even John’s nose scrunched under the fresh assault to the senses. The light hangover they both endured did nothing to help.

With a delighted smile, Faith glided into the backroom. Joseph finally moved off the stage and towards them, a much more serious expression greeted them. “Come on, we have much to discuss.” With the stabilising weight of John against his shoulder Max passed through into the curious room.

It was much cooler than the main church and darker. There was a false ceiling to give the illusion of a normal sized room, but the half-exposed beams gave it away. If it wasn’t on purpose then whoever designed them room made a massive mistake, all the warm air escaped up to the original ceiling leaving the room constantly chilled.

“The lower temperature helps with my migraines.” Joseph motioned for Max to sit on the only available sitting space, which was a small single bed on the far right of the room. Max was the only one to sit and the way they all smiled at him as he had all the answers were remarkably unsettling. 

“Have you had any more _dreams_ since the night in the jail?” Faith was the one to ask with her arms hidden behind her back. Max shook his head dumbly. _How_ did they know? Word must have gotten out from the jail. Why they kicked him out, probably Burkes doing. His nostrils flared in anger and he took a deep steadying breath.

“You have good control over your wrath, he will stand no chance.” Joseph drawl of a voice was gentle, and he watched Max closely as if inside a cage with a wild animal. It dawned in that moment what those words meant, the words spoken like a caress and the ones before, for many people to hear and interpret. The person Joseph so passionately talked about was him?

His face must have shown the shock and disbelief that cascaded through him. John quickly advanced over and perched next to him. His face one of imploring determination. Listen _please_ , try to understand but, how could he?

The moment was thankfully interrupted, spared by the insistent crackle of the radio secured and strapped to Johns hip. “Another prophecy fulfilled.” Joseph smiled darkly at all of them before leaving the room, his own radio already whirling, and Jacobs gruff voice was on the other end. Max just managed to hear Jacob curse before-

“THEY WHAT.” John is seething, boiling resentment instantly. He circled the room in tight steps with gritted teeth. A rabid thing, ready to destroy everything. The embodiment of wraith in a heartbeat. John listens to whoever is on the other side, but Max can’t make their voice out over the loud, barely contained snarled breaths of John. “ **They** took the ranch.” Max isn’t sure who _they_ are, but he had a pretty good idea. John was quick to leave the room after the radio rang silent and what could Max do but follow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy with this chapter so any feedback would be awesome! :D
> 
> HMU on tumblr if your like! I promise if don't bite... unless you ask ^^ @redangrypears


	18. The tranquillity of anarchy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> As always if there is any spelling or grammatical mistakes let me know. 
> 
> :D

Working on autopilot, Max raced to keep up with John. In the heart of Eden’s Gate as he were, it shouldn’t have been surprising that there was a flurry of activity just outside of the thick, wooden church doors. A group of straight-backed individuals stood before Joseph with solemn faces and Jacob’s voice could be heard clearly through the radio. He issued commands on how best to secure the perimeter as if they didn’t already know, everything about them screamed military. Clearly having been trained by Jacob himself. Red hoods did well to hide many faces but the orange face paint of one stuck out. A few wolves snapped at each other from the side of them before a quick whistle brought the beasts to attention.

Did they expect a full-on assault? It wasn’t impossible. John didn’t stop until he stood next to Joseph and the soldiers were dismissed with a slight head nod. Max waited slightly back, still unsure of his role and especially with the dynamic of the brothers. He had received numerous mixed signals from Joseph, several that he’d rather not think about.

“John, we’ve talked about this.” Joseph was the grounding presence in the sea of Max’s anxiety. It did little to placate John however, he was manic and consumed in fury. The click of heeled boots on the stone path grated against the nerves of everyone in the immediate area but no one dared to comment.

“We have to do _something_!” John tried not to take it out on him, and Joseph in all his serene impatience could tell. The sneer residing upon Johns face drew no visible response from The Father and the loud crack of a radio splintering in too tight a grip, went ignored.

“We are. Jacob is on route to take care of it. Relax brother, all is as it should be.” John deflated at the words, the look he sent Max in that second was meaningful. It seemed they had something to discuss. “Stay out of trouble before Jacob reports back, both of you.” With steel determination lacing each word, Joseph steadily retreated back into the sanctuary of the church.

It was eerie whilst empty, and Max could just about see Faith, who stood in the back room. She watched Jerry intently. The little pool lay in the open wardrobe, but the frog sat upon her palm, staring. A shiver went down Max’s spine at the empty gaze of Jerrys huge eyes upon him, but Joseph broke the line of sight. The slow creak as the door shut was enough to forget, for the moment just how aware the gaze of the frog had been.

A heavy palm pulled Max back and he stumbled until the solid figure of John held him firm. They were extremely close, enough so that Max was warmed by John’s body heat. The tense statue of a person behind him slowly started to relax, the tension dissipating in the face of comfort. The dust particles floating past streams of light near each window became interesting as Max tried to ignore the slow kindling of lust in his abdomen. The light press of a forehead against his shoulder did not go unnoticed, but Max allowed the stressed man to breathe him in.

“Come on, let’s go.” It was excruciating to step away, but he managed. The gentle smile that softened Johns features made him appear 10 years younger. It quickly hardened into his usual fiery frown however when the stress from before resurfaced upon the sight that awaited.

Jacobs specialists were gone but still many more bodies raced around, collecting guns, and securing building after building. Checking their numbers or making sure they hadn’t already been infiltrated. The numerous church goers worked efficiently, no matter how crazy Joseph sometimes came across he ran a tight operation.

John led him to the truck and many followers tried to stop the pair and make conversation, but he just waved them off, with a confident smile that seemed to calm the echoed worry. Within the safety of the truck Max could relax, free from scrutinising attention. It was peaceful for once as the drive went on in relative silence, but he couldn’t help but feel like it were the calm before the storm. John fished a new radio out of the glove compartment and Max wondered just how many he had already gone through.

Upon entering Holland Valley, Johns personal mobile rang. He answered it whilst driving with a smirk thrown at Max. The driving laws in regard to phones didn’t really matter anymore but still Max rose his eyebrows in response. The boyish grin quickly fell from John’s face however, there was a problem. The truck came to be parked on the side of the road and John put his head onto the scolding dashboard. There was no shouting and no cursing, just tired frustration. It was the most tired Max had seen him since entering Hope County. His face pinched at the tone of whoever called, it wasn’t possible to understand the conversation but there was a rushed desperation from the other end of the line. John’s hands dug into his own thighs hard enough to hurt, hard enough to harm. Until Max threaded his through them, a slight squeeze was enough.

The conversation didn’t last long, John hardly paid attention. Instead his gaze lay on their clasped hands in his lap, on the way Max’s thumb lightly traced the back of his hand. Goosebumps lined his arms and the light hair of his forearms stood on end, but Max didn’t notice. He was mesmerized by John’s shapely lips, the bottom one had been sucked into his mouth. The line went silent and upon realising a question had just been asked, John hummed in absent agreement and then hung up. 

“Want to talk about it?” Max was hopeful and so far the usually cagy Johnathan Seed had been forthcoming. He didn’t however want to talk, and the nervous frown lasted but a moment before the mask went up and John put on the most charming smile he could invoke but Max had noticed. It was suspicious.

“Have I ever shown you my bunker? Ah deputy don’t look surprised.” John possessing a bunker wasn’t a surprise, in fact not having one would have been more of a shock. The majority of Hope County seemed to have a strange obsession with them. It was astonishing that John hadn’t shown off earlier. In the past he had always been quick to boast of any achievement that would put himself in a better position whether that be opinion or of a financial nature, it was just in his character. John’s childhood had instilled many bad habits in the desire for attention.

“Why don’t I have your phone, in case it rings again before we get there?” He regretted the words the second John glanced at him, playful smirk in place.

“Oh, _officer_ will you arrest me?” John let his voice pitch higher and drawled out the sentence with battering eyelashes to match. As if to appear like a damsel in distress but if anyone could claim such a position it would have been Max, enclosed in a vehicle with a man that believed pain to be purifying for the soul. He still wasn’t relaxed but to John that was impossible at the best of times. The banter however had brought a small smile to his face.

The bumpy ground that slowly led upwards snapped Max from the daze of thoughtlessly watching the quickly passing trees. A building loomed ahead and far to the left of the grey structures there was a gigantic sign. The white lettering of YES was obtrusive, nestled on the side of a sizable mountain and surrounded by trees. How many hands would have been needed to create such a structure? Not as many as the flashy statue in the Henbane but certainly a substantial amount, it reminded Max of the sign in Hollywood.

The truck ground to a halt 3 meters from the concrete entrances, two squared archways void of doors left little to the imagination and Max observed the many boxes containing the Eden’s Gate logo with interest. An impressively thick metal door was wide open and there wasn’t a guard in sight. Max felt the persistent itch of a warning at his nape but before he had chance to vocalise any opinions, John strode out of the truck without a thought to the worryingly empty guard tower. There weren’t any bodies in sight. Had someone taken them? 

Inside the bunker was a set of stairs and Max waited with bated breath as John closed then locked the enormously dense door behind them with a low and grinding thud. The key around his neck fit perfectly and Max wondered how he hadn’t noticed the silver chain before. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust before they could head deeper, the bunker was far too dark. Was it by design or had lights been broken?

There was a tense silence circling the space, like an incident had just happened and the residual atmosphere still remained. Down three flights of metal stairs, through a concrete corridor and around the next with still no sign of life or death. Until Max nearly tripped over a foot that stuck out of the shadows behind a large storage box. John clicked his tongue in distaste at the sight. The man’s neck was bent at an unnatural angle, clearly snapped. Hopefully it had been quick but that thought became increasingly doubtful. Bruises littered his face and blood covered his slacked fists; he had clearly been in a close combat fight. John watched each corner as if he expected someone to jump out of the shadows, he was hiding something. What had happened here?

A few carpets would really give the hard floor some warmth or perhaps installing some orange lights, might make the cramped space feel a little more open. A few plants would be nice, not that they could be supported whilst undergrounded without special lights. One of the rooms was substantially brighter than the clinical white wall of the previous corridor, and Max felt a headache come on as his eyes strained to see through the door into the pitch black of another area. The body of two men and a woman lay in a pile just though the next door, but they were alive, just unconscious. The light of John’s phone was a saviour and Max lifted the person on the top to a bed so that when they came to, it wouldn’t be in a panic on the stone floor. John helped marginally until he noticed the tense of Max’s shoulder which had begun to ache deep in his muscles. It didn’t take long between the both of them for the unconscious people to all be comfortably situated on separate beds. They had been lucky to be knocked out within one of the sleeping quarters.

There wasn’t another soul to be seen until down another freezing flight of metal stairs, muffled voices could be heard. The tinkling banging of metal drew them to the source, through a big room of tables and chairs until they rounded a corner and Max promptly paused at the sight ahead. The room was like a prison cell, with a steel door that had a little barred window in the centre and a little slot at the bottom to perhaps push food through. Within, there was a minimum of 10 people wearing the Eden’s Gate symbol. Had someone put them in there? And more importantly, how? Especially when the majority were armed with guns.

John unlocked the door with his key and flung it open with a scathing glare, he would have words with all of them but not yet. The dazed people quickly exited with promises to secure the perimeter and John’s radio started to chatter with people asking for back up at the bunker, they needed more presence. Not enough people left to patrol apparently, the tired baritone of Jacobs heavy voice echoed around them. He had a busy evening ahead. Max doubted he had even finished at the ranch yet.

John led Max into a room which had several monitors set up with a live feed of the many twisting and dark corridors within the bunker, he pulled a USB stick out of one of the computers and pocketed it before moving on.

“Just need to check one last thing.” John didn’t elaborate on what that was, but it became apparent soon enough. One of the rooms had dark red light with a wooden workbench in the corner, there was an empty doorframe on the back wall. Max shivered at the knives and blunt tools that were in the open, waiting to be used. Some were rusty with blood. He didn’t want to know what they were used for but at some point, would have to ask.

Through the door there was a tiny, lone chair placed in the middle of a square chamber and John fingered at the cut restraints with disdain and the look of careful indifference. Two people lay not far with their throats slit, one of them had many stab wounds, blood pooled around them and stretched all the way to touch one of the walls. They had been dead for a while. The stab wounds would have been done in a fit of rage, Max just preyed that they were already dead. A framed photo of Joseph was smashed in the corner, broken glass littered the floor and the photo itself had been vandalised. Part of Josephs face had been scratched.

The radio crackled in John’s grip and Max could spot the signs of bubbling anger. “You think you’ve escaped but you’re wrong. Wraith is short-sighted. We WILL find _you_ and the ragtag group of misfits.” There was no reply and John paced, he grew more irritated by the second. “I know you think sparing a few of my men will sway him but that is where you are wrong. You see Hudson, Max has already made his choice and it isn’t you. How could it ever be _you_?” John snarled down the receiver and then pocketed the radio after nearly throwing it at the wall in a fit of rage. Max stood frozen. Hudson had been the one to escape, that’s where she had been. Locked away, alone and John had neglected to tell him.

He was angry, Hudson had done him no wrong but… the sight of the bodies truly made him feel sick. The act of murder was one thing, horrible in normal circumstances but almost expected in the ones they found themselves. To brutally stab someone _that_ many times was another level of fucked up however, and it made him question everything he thought about the stern-faced deputy. What would Staci make of it? He would have to ask him. John lightly pulled on his sleeve and the look he gave him was one of scarcely hidden vulnerability.

“Let’s go to a room with actual heating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've put the rating up, which I feel is appropriate but let me know if you disagree!
> 
> It should have gone up a few chapters ago but I've finally gotten around to it.


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